


Fallacy

by ZeroApathy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Army, Blood, Character Development, Child Abuse, Cruelty, Developing Relationship, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, First Time, Foreplay, Gentle Sex, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Original Slash, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Rough Sex, Samurai, Slow Build, Soldiers, Swordfighting, War, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroApathy/pseuds/ZeroApathy
Summary: A dance with the mad lion leaves a naive prince questioning everything he knows about the world and what it takes to make a man a true monster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. Started as little something, and grew too be much more than I thought :D.

Chapter 1

 

He watched them die. He watched the lights leave there eyes every time his blade met with the skin of their throat, slicing through like hot butter against a knife. He watched as blood continued to darken his armor, a splash of crimson against the black sheen, appearing as a modern day monster to terrorize all in his way. He watched as a mother threw herself in the path of his sword after ignoring her pleads for mercy to spare her children. And after she lay gone and lifeless, he turned his eyes on the children who stared at him with an emptiness that might’ve weakened the constitution of a lesser man. Something that he was not. He watched the conquest of this seaside town, devoid of what you would expect in a man that had victory dancing between his fingertips. Devoid of triumph, satisfaction, and pleasure. No…what he felt in his very core and it flickered behind his steely eyes was:

_Boredom._

Erik Lionhart, Conqueror of the Four Realms, and more titles that he didn’t care for, was completely and utterly _bored_. This wasn’t challenging; taking this town was easier than stealing a suckling babe from its mom’s tit. The people here didn’t resist—they didn’t have time to. Erik’s men came in a swarm of ships and cannon fire, fire and steel. The attack had been unpredictable, their defenses feeble and disorganized at best from lack of preparation. It was why he hated surprise attacks—it sucked the fun out of battle. But in all fairness, his advisor nor he didn’t know there would be a town here, this area of the map had been uncharted, a new land that was ready to be taken.

They hadn’t been aware that it had been occupied already.

Armored fingers dug underneath the stained metal of his helm, ripping it off to expose the face of a surprisingly youthful male with unkempt, short black hair and burning sea-green eyes. His lips were twisted into a scowl of disapproval as he stepped over a carcass, watching as his men salvaged the town for survivors and any spoils of battle. Erik wasn’t completely devoid of strategy; he did understand the importance of taking survivors for slaves. The whole process wasn’t new to him really. Conquer the town, spare some people, establish the area as a base depending on strategic importance, and put the survivors to work (if they wanted to live), and move on after a couple of days to the next conquest.

It was the same old routine that he’s been following for a long time, longer than he would ever admit.

“My lord, you are unharmed I presume?”

Green eyes flickered briefly over a caped shoulder before the rest of his body turned as well, acknowledging the new arrival by rubbing his temple, as if warding off an encroaching headache. “If you don’t count boredom then yes…I suppose I am unharmed.”

At this the man looked visibly relieved as if he been carrying a particularly heavy doubt, approaching his young lord with a scrutiny that Erik wouldn’t normally allow from just a regular person. But Lysial wasn’t any regular person; he was his advisor, confidant, brother at times, and maybe his conscious that he often wondered even existed. The guy was easy on the eyes according to most; brown hair kept always in a ponytail; grey orbs framed behind thin spectacles; and a serious, angular face that often wore expressions of consternation. Great man…just not around alcohol.

“There will be plenty of time to entertain yourself later, my lord,” countered the man dryly, shaking his head. Erik couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he appeared, going by the pensiveness from his gaze. This sparked the barest of interest in him. “I’ve come to report the conquest of this town has been complete. The civilians have ceased all retaliatory actions and await further instruction in the center of the town.”

“Mmm…that’s good. Anything else?” His tone indicated his disinterest, suddenly finding the gleam of the sun bouncing of his sword more interesting. It would need to be cleaned.

Brown eyebrows twitched. “Nothing of import I’m afraid. However,” sea-green eyes looked up, expectant, “did you notice the architecture of the buildings, my lord?”

What?

“Sorry, no. I was too busy making sure this woman didn’t try to kill me with her broom,” was his reply, unable to keep the sarcasm from his tone.

Lysial continued, unaffected. “It’s quite different from our homeland. In contrast to our more masonry, rectangular way of design, the buildings here are more angular, the roofs are tiled…and I think the doors slide open? It is very peculiar. And it’s not just the housing but the clothing as well. Did you see…”

And Erik let him continue on his litany of observations unperturbed, giving the occasional grunt of acknowledgement as he began walking in the direction of what he believed to be the town center, Lysial diligently following behind. Once again, he would like to point out all this stuff his advisor was noting had little interest to him; he came to fight, to conquer, to make this new land and all who may occupy it bend the knee. He didn’t care about whatever differences this place had to his homeland because at the end of the day, they would be sharing a similar ruler. And why stop here? When he was done with this land there was sure to be more wasn’t it? Granted, he didn’t know how big this land was—it was uncharted territory after all but that shouldn’t be a hindrance.

Which was why Lysial had cautioned him to just attacking the natives and not investigating first when they had been allowed to dock. But that wasn’t fun…it wasn’t challenging. If anything, seeing the horror in the man’s eyes as he approached their ship (the others soon to be arriving) and realizing they were hostiles had probably been the most entertaining aspect of the whole thing. Everything after that had proceeded predictably, with him victorious at the end.

Same old thing.

Contemplating how he should relieve himself of this stubborn cloud of boredom, Erik barely raised a brow at the group of people gathered forcibly in the center of town. If he had to take a rough estimate, he would say about a good 100 people were left as a result of the attack. Trained on them so they wouldn’t make any hasty moves were about 12 crossbows, strung tight and ready to fire. A body lay somewhat distant from the group, embedded with at least 5 bolts, a good warning if Erik ever saw one.

Upon his arrival, his crossbowmen acknowledged his presence with a quick bow, waving his hand in a signal to lower their weapons. It wouldn’t be necessary. Any type of unruly behavior would be dealt with in the same manner as that unfortunate fellow laying lifeless on the ground met. And going from the people gathered here terrified and confused expressions, they understood quite well.

“Who is your leader…if he’s still alive? Come forth now or be punished,” demanded the young conqueror in a tone that bequeathed no argument, watching with baleful eyes as they muttered amongst themselves, confused. “No one is willing to represent their people? Do you all,” his hand waved again and the ends of the crossbows were returned their target, “wish to die over such a simple request? Come now, I don’t have all day.”

“Not to interrupt his majesty when he is making a _request_ , but I believe these people speak an entirely different language.” Sea-green eyes flickered to meet calm grey ones, feeling the corner of his lip twitch in the faintest hints of amusement. How unfortunate. The only possible solution in his mind was to use violence.

The king clucked his tongue and grabbed the nearest person he could find—a young girl that looked to be approaching her fourteenth year or so—by her shirt and dragged her away from the others. The response was immediate; a man leaped up in response but a sobbing woman prevented him from coming any closer. If looks could kill, Erik would be dead a million times over.

The faintest hint of intrigue flickered to life in his bored soul.

“If the leader of this miserable little town doesn’t show up, I’ll kill the girl right here. Look,” he beseeched them all with a false expression of sheepishness, like he was against this whole charade, “I’m not a bad guy. I’m a reasonable person as long as my demands are met. And are they being met? No, they are not. So unfortunately…” Trailing off with a fake, forlorn sigh, Erik unsheathed his sword from his back in a quick movement, sword point mere inches from the crying girl’s face. She was sobbing in her native tongue, probably begging for her life without even requiring a translation. Yet the sight didn’t faze his steel-encased heart, nor the moans from the woman and the man in the crowd.

Guess no one cared about the girl. Guess he would need a better example.

Preparing his arm to swing in a way that would cleanly slit the girl’s throat, Erik paused when he heard a desperate shout from behind him, pausing then turning to see who dared stop him.

It was a middle-aged man who had a bit of a gut and some wrinkles on his face that seemed if they just sprung there only moments ago. Gray peppered chestnut-brown hair in an uneven pattern and his eyes were wide and moist. In his arms was a burgundy chest, protecting it like a prized possession.

Erik merely blinked.

The man spoke in that strange language of theirs, desperation tinging every word, making frantic gestures at the girl then to the box. Was he supposed to assume that meant he would trade the girl for whatever was in the box?

Humoring the man, the king lowered his weapon and went to investigate the chest himself, glancing at the elder who seemed close to soiling his undergarments at any moment. Vaguely amused, he gently opened the box and made a noise at seeing its contents. How surprising… Rubies, gold, diamonds and the lot, something he thought wouldn’t be so amassed in such a concentrated little node like this. It was fairly impressive for a little seaside town like this. Had Erik been a ruler easily swayed by materialism and wealth, the offering might’ve persuaded him to quench his bloodlust. Yet he wasn’t; he didn’t care about such things.

“I can assume you’re the authority figure of this town correct?”

Something about his tone must have unsettled the guy; his throat quivered and his words came out stuttered and incomprehensible as usual. He took a step back, placing the treasure coffer at Erik’s feet, urging him to take the offering. Something animalistic inside him opened its jaws hungrily at the submissive display, already marking its prey, wanting to kill and rip and tear. The bloodlust he relished in was settling over his rational like a thick, red fog, hand tightening over the handle of his sword which he could swear was crying for blood as well. It was time to hunt, to _kill._

Sensing his intentions or feeling that aura of bloodlust about him, the guy only managed to turn around before a sword erupted from the middle of his chest, blood decorating the finery in the coffer in a crimson glaze. Screams came from the assembly behind him, the twang of an arrow flying loose as someone tried acting out in response to the brutality. But those maddened eyes was staring hungrily at the limp figure on his blade, ripping out the embedded weapon with the sound of flesh and tissue to accompany it. He loved it; loved killing and blood. He was a monster in human skin and he knew it; acknowledged it; _welcomed_ it. The Savage Lion of Agreliv, he was called, and for good reason. A feral grin twisted attractive features into the visage of a predator as his tongue met the stained steel of his blade, tasting that coppery liquid, _enjoying_ it.

“Your majesty.”

Someone addressed him, the fog in his brain making it difficult to discern who it was for a moment. Seeing the passive face of his advisor returned him to his senses, sheathing his blade and giving the once dead man and the shaking girl a dismissive glance, turning his sights onto his audience. The eyes that stared back at him belonged to those that felt as if they were in the presence of a demon, hearing the mental slew of names they were calling him.

_Savage._

_Monster._

_Demon._

_Murderer._

Erik was all these things and _more_.

He smiled demonically, chuckling at something only he was privy to before declaring in a husky, loud voice, “I am Erik Lionhart, Conqueror of the Four Realms, Savage Lion of Agreliv, and the Undying One! I am your master now, your ruler, your god, your everything! To disobey me is treason, to challenge me is death! Your lives belong to me! Relinquish onto me your freedom and reverence and I will provide protection and succor! My word is my truth and my vow is unbreakable! Now…submit!”

A resounding mantra of “Lionhart” came from his men that had been steadily gathering from the nooks and crannies of this pillaged town, stamping their boots on the ground in rhythm, till more and more picked up the cry. Their voices continued to rise until it reached a crescendo, resounding off with his name once more before they became silent, getting on one knee in an easy, practiced motion.

The king looked expectantly at the gathered mass of natives.

The effect was unanimous; everyone got on both knees and bowed so low that their faces were mere inches away from the ground.

Teeth bared in a predatory smile, Erik laughed darkly into the air, looking forward to his next conquest.

 

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

 

“How do you expect us to mobilize all of the daimyos from each province in a few days’ time? It’s simply not possible to do it in the timeframe purposed!”

“But we can’t simply let Lord Gujo be at the mercy of these…savages! He has already lost two villages in the span of five days. And from the scouts report, Aomura is next. We cannot lose Aomura; it is the economic foundation of commerce for the province of Tousaki. Without it, there whole economy would be in disarray and this would create a rippling effect that is sure to affect everyone.”

“Yes I understand the importance of Aomura. Suffice it is to say does Lord Gujo also share this understanding? After all, it is—or rather _was_ under his jurisdiction. Had he been more competent in the defense of his lands, we might actually have enough time to prepare a sufficient amount of forces.”

“Lord Hagiwara…surely you jest? It simply wasn’t possible to defend against roughly 6000 soldiers. Not to mention, that demon’s army seems to be growing by the day.”

“Incompetence!”

Reisu couldn’t help but furrow his brows in slight bewilderment at the proceedings, wondering why these men were squabbling and insulting each other when time was so very precious. The solution to the problem at hand seemed simple: that was to defend their lands against this invader. It wasn’t feasible to let one person be at the mercy of a danger that had disastrous potential to affect everybody while everyone selfishly tried to hide away. Apart, they were weak, together they would be strong. It was common sense, yet the _Roju—_ or Council of Elders—saw it fit to make the problem more difficult than it should be.

Reisu restrained himself from sweeping a hand through his golden hair, throwing a helpless glance to his uncle.

Who just so happened to be the Shogun—their commander-in-chief.

The man didn’t share his golden hair. Instead it was an ink-black color that was done into a dignified knot befitting of his status. His face was stern but that was because of the near-comical scene he was forced to lord over, dark-brown eyes swimming with his own opinions. Instead of giving voice (well, at least not yet), he merely sipped at his tea, savoring the taste as he let out a weary sigh. Ah, seemed like it was about time to intervene now.

“Enough. Indecision is normal but quibbling amongst each other accomplishes nothing. Are we not leaders amongst the people? Then such behaviors are beneath us.”

The gathered men all looked indignant before each settled down with their own comments heavy on their tongue, daring not to challenge their lordship. Satisfied with this, the shogun placed his cup down and prepared himself to finally share his viewpoint. “I think it’s fair if we allow Lord Gujo to give us a detailed summary of what has been occurring in his province—without interruption,” added the man curtly upon seeing Hagiwara appearing as if he wanted to say something.

Gujo looked ever so grateful, if not relieved. “His magnificence is too kind. Thank you.”

“You may continue.”

“Ah yes, if I may…” It was like an unimaginable weight just dropped on his shoulders as he seemed to struggle for a hot second on how to start—or rather where to start. “The man is called ‘Lionhart’ and he is perhaps a true demon incarnated into human flesh. The army that he commands is ruthlessly skilled and have weapons that are somewhat different then our own. My informants have told me that he arrived on a ship with a legion of them soon to follow, bringing with them more men and resources.

As Lord Kitagawa has mentioned, this demon has managed to conquer two of our villages. The people are enslaved and made to provide and sustain his army with whatever it needs. This has dampened a considerable amount of our own supplies in other towns, namely in our supply of fish sense he has Tsukochi under his control. Any attempts or efforts are met with savage retaliation from his defenses. Had we enough warriors to overpower him, perhaps the situation could be reversed.”

“And what of his battle prowess or a description of his army? Anything that would be crucial to know besides him having more forces?” Inquired the shogun, voicing the same question that had been drifting in the back of Reisu mind.

At this Gujo paused and ruminated on the information in his head, settling on something that caused his whole expression to change to horrified bewilderment. “Ah…I have been informed that he…rides a lion into battle.”

“What,” sputtered one of the elders who simply couldn’t hold in his reaction, which was probably shared by everyone in this room.

Gujo knew it sounded preposterous—hell it sounded that way saying it—but he knew he had to continue on, swallowing back his own disbelief. “He and a couple of others have been sighted riding armored lions into battle alongside your standard horses. The sight alone has been said to rob the will out of most.”

“Lions, lord Gujo? You expect to us to contend with lions? What madness is this?” Spat Hagiwara, sounding as if the whole conversation had just gotten ridiculous.

Trying not to be disrespectful, Gujo just cleared his throat, continuing on with his speech, “It is the truth. I suppose the only good thing is that not his entire army have lion steeds, just the handful that were seen. As powerful as they are, lions are not invulnerable to spear and arrow.”

“Yes, proceed,” the shogun uttered thoughtfully, having gotten over that shocking admission.

“Any attempts at peace have been made and offered, but that has been proven futile for a couple of reasons. The savages do not speak our language and they have repeatedly shown to not have any interest in establishing peace with us. Trying has resulted in some gruesome consequences.” The daimyo paled slightly at this before tucking his hands into the sleeves of his _haori_ , having reached a grim conclusion. “We are only left with the option to either fight or surrender. That is all…”

All was solemnly quite in the command room, each man digesting this new information at their own pace and having mixed reactions. If Reisu hadn’t been taught how to mask his emotions, one would be able to see all the thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts of horror and concern…and an inkling of fascination. This Lionhart…rode a lion? An actual lion? The beasts weren’t native to this land, dwelling in the regions across the sea to the west. He had only seen one once (as a small child) when a trader had come to present goods to his uncle. Lead in by a silver chain had been a golden beast that was as magnificent as the Shogun. It was similar to a tiger if you counted the lack of stripes and the rippling muscle. And those teeth…

Feeling a very real ripple of fear go up his spine, the blond composed himself and listened distantly to the men conversing amongst himself, glancing at his uncle who seemed to mull something over before announcing his decision. “I will send a battalion of soldiers to assist Lord Gujo as well as General Hiyato to assess the situation further.  During this, I will also notify all the daimyo’s of every province in Oshihan to rally them for war. All I ask is that you do your best to hold off this invader Lord Gujo.”

“I will do all I can, your lordship.” He bowed lowly and deeply, gratitude coming off him in waves.

And with this, everyone in the hall was to be dismissed as a conclusion was met, shuffling out the room in muted conversation. Lingering behind was the young blond, nearly about to combust from the request on his tongue despite how calm he appeared. Without having to look at him, the Shogun could already tell what the gist of the request would be, languidly taking a sip of his drink that had long lost its warmth.

“Well…?”

“I want to go to.”

“Elaborate.”

Reisu didn’t really need to; his uncle was an intelligent man and knew what he was getting at, but it wasn’t in his nature to make things easier for people who demanded something from him. So if he wanted to communicate his desire more effectively, then he would have to spell it out.

“I want to go with General Hiyato to face this new threat,” requested the blonde confidently, standing proudly, oozing determination.

“General Hiyato is ‘assessing’ the threat, not facing it,” the shogun corrected lightly.

The blonde frowned but he wouldn’t be deterred so easily. “Then I wish to accompany him to ‘assess the threat’.”

“You’re a prince, and princes should stay where it’s safe so they may further serve their people when the time comes.”

“But I will be serving my people when they need it the most…which is now,” he argued back, knowing—no _feeling_ he was right. “Perhaps you don’t believe in my capabilities.”

At that assumption, the man stopped sipping his drink to direct a warning gaze at the stubborn prince, appearing to be on the cusp of saying something uncordial but refraining from doing so due to caring about his nephew’s feelings or maybe some other reason that wasn’t sentimental. “Perhaps I simply believe in your potential more. Reisu,” liquid-amber orbs gazed up with the first sign of dejection staining their surfaces, “I have seen your skill in the martial arts and do acknowledge that they are worthy of turning the tides of battle. But you are a prince and your job is to succeed your father in being a symbol of hope for the people. What do you think would happen if the heir to the throne was killed by these savages? Their morale would go down. So don’t think for an instant that I don’t believe in your skills… I simply know your safety has higher priority. Understood?”

“Yes, honorable uncle.”

There was simply no arguing against that; his heart stung with rejection and displeasure, a bitter outcome compared to the one he envisioned. He knew his safety was important, but he also knew he wasn’t a defenseless child that couldn’t protect himself. But any further argument would be moot in the face of his uncle’s stoicism. So with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to change his uncle’s mind no matter what he said, Reisu bowed respectfully and departed the room, seeking out the attention of someone he knew would listen to him—well complain that is. He already knew where this person would be, heading towards a tall building that was one of the imperial soldiers garrisons.

Bracing himself mentally as he stood in front of the building, Reisu slid open the doors and wasn’t surprised at the sight that greeted him.

“…I didn’t really get her name but I’m sure she won’t forget mine anytime soon. She must have screamed it so much that even the Gods were telling her to shut up at some point.”

Uproarious laughter and the banging of tables accompanied the comment, drawing the blonde’s gaze to the man posturing on a table while his comrades relaxed on their knees, listening to him preach nonsense. Here was General Kai Haiyato, the shogun’s son, and his cousin. The guy was a known womanizer and alcoholic most of the time but this was off-set by his skills with a katana and his surprising charisma. Instead of sharing onyx-black hair with his father, Kai’s hair was a wheat-colored yellow that was curled busily about his head like a messy crown. Mirthful brown ears peered from a grinning face that was flushed slightly from many drinks, dressed in finery that was partially hidden beneath his grey armor. He was already going into another story, but this time, Reisu purposefully made his way around the room by being quiet and unobtrusive, nodding politely at one of the girls serving beverages to the soldiers once he found a seat at the same table where Kai was talking.

He cleared his throat.

“Wha—oh.” Doe-brown eyes narrowed in confusion at the noise at first, searching for the source before rapidly changing his expression once he saw he who it was. “Ah, sorry boys! Going to have to finish that story another time.”

Ignoring his men’s disappointed groans, Kai was quick to shift into a sitting position, cross-legged, giving his cousin his full attention…as much as he could while under the influence. “How may I help you today your highness? Need women advice?”

“No,” Reisu grunted, wondering if seeking his cousin’s ear while he was drunk was a good idea. The unfortunate thing was…he was _always_ drunk.

“Oh right…you’re not much of a ladies man. You prefer—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! And lower your voice,” hissed the prince in pained embarrassment, a dangerous crimson color tinging his pale skin from the curious glances directed there way. “Your tact is non-existent as always when you’re drowning yourself in liquor. I wonder how you function throughout the day.”

The man smiled wanly, as if his cousin said something he found ironic. “You say the sweetest things, my prince.” He waved for a girl to refill his cup before taking a slow sip of his drink, half-lidded eyes peering over the rim at his somewhat aggravated company. “So, what troubles you so? You look as if someone kicked your puppy…and that person is probably the ruler of Oshihan if I was to take an educated guess.”

“Mmm…,” disappointment returned in full force in soft hazels, biting his lip as he looked down at the table, lost in his thoughts. “Your father wants you to assist in the defense of Lord Gujo’s lands as he rallies the other daimyo to confront the foreign invaders.”

“Sounds like a party; when do I head out?”

“He didn’t disclose that to me. But if I was to guess, tomorrow seeing as how this is an important matter.”

Kai placed his half-drained cup down, seemingly unaffected by the fact he would be marching into a dangerous situation. If anything, muted excitement was burning in the depths of those chocolate orbs. “Well, I’ll try not to act surprised when he approaches me. You still didn’t tell me why your puppy was kicked though.”

“Enough with the puppy metaphor.” It was making him wince every time he imagined a poor puppy getting kicked repeatedly. “The honorable Shogun deemed it unnecessary for me to come with you despite acknowledging my skills. According to him, the best support I can provide for the people is by staying here. But how does that—”

“I agree.”

“—help anyone…what?”

“You’re a prince, son of the Emperor who is a connection to the gods themselves. If something happens to you, who will serve as that connection then?”

“That was a surprisingly lucid deduction from you,” muttered the prince in annoyance, shooting his cousin a withering glance as he shrugged. “I would prefer to better serve the people more directly. I am a capable fighter—you know this.”

Another sip. “Certainly.”

“So I know I can make a difference! Even if I don’t fight…even if I just come to observe, even that would help too. I would be able to devise a strategy and I would like to think I’m good at that as well. I just…want to help.”

Kai became quite at the soft admission, looking upon his cousin in silent sympathy. He knew his cousin was often stuck in the capital, locked behind the palace walls away from the world a majority of the time, yearning to do something. He wasn’t allowed to leave unless to attend ceremonies and parades that the royal family appeared in, then was herded back home like cattle. Compared to him, Kai had always been allowed to do as he pleased as long as he didn’t bring dishonor on his family name…which he still struggles to avoid due to his…frequent visits to the Red Light Districts. Often, Reisu did lament on how he was jealous of Kai’s freedom and responsibilities.

If only he knew the truth of it.

Still, he did care for his cousin quite dearly—like the brother he never had if you excluded the illegitimate ones. So it was in his nature to help if he could. Although, offering this type of help did make his liquored brain fuzz up in warning, like maybe he should consider it more…

Oh, whatever.

“Perhaps you can by being there…but not being there.”

The younger male’s face was priceless, as if he just saw a three-headed cow. “Being ambiguous—really? From you Kai? It doesn’t really suit your taste.”

“Course not, but it’s the truth.”

“ _How?”_

Forcing the gears in his brain to turn so he could he actually educate his mystified cousin on his ideas, Kai rubbed his chin thoughtfully, forgetting the drink for once. “We could dye your hair black and give you a mask to disguise your identity.”

“Seriously? I actually believed you had a good idea for a second.” Reisu pressed his face into his palm in disbelief, wondering why he even bothered to hope for a moment.

Kai actually looked as serious as he possibly could force himself to be, placing his hands on Reisu’s shoulders to regain his attention, strangely intense for some reason. “I could say you are my retainer or vassal—whichever you prefer. That way, no one will pay you any mind, granted you don’t speak too much or take your mask off.”

The blond didn’t really know how to feel about this idea, worrying the back of his hand with his thumb. It might be possible. “I don’t know if this will work…”

“Look, do you want to go or not?”

_Yes, he really wanted to go._

“Yes…”

“Good. Now here’s what we are going to do…”

 

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

 

Reisu knew he should’ve been more appreciative that he was in fact where he wanted to be, but he couldn’t help but complain a little.

They had arrived at Aomura four days ago then traveled to Hakone Checkpoint after receiving Intel that the demon’s armies might be making its way through the steep, forested mountains that was between Aomura and the town the invaders occupied. Admittedly, the area was enclosed around a valley so it was quite beautiful to look at. After a while, the sight had begun to lose its allure after three days of staring at the same thing. There wasn’t anything to do besides patrol town, and that also started becoming dull after the 20th go around, having memorized where every pebble was on the path.

Not to mention, he had gotten used to (somewhat) not being addressed as if everywhere he walked was holy ground. The samurai, as well as the civilians, often regarded him suspiciously and probably would’ve approached him if he wasn’t at Kai’s side a majority of the time. The general had taken to making up all types of fascinating stories as to who he was and what his purpose was. He particularly enjoyed the one about being a secret, ninja assassin.

It was getting fairly ridiculous.

The lies and keeping up the disguise that is. Wearing the mask throughout the day often made his face start getting sweaty even if it only covered the upper part of his face; the dye in his hair didn’t mingle well with water so he had to be mindful of that; and he gotten so used to being addressed as “Fox” that he almost forgot his true name for a second. Not to mention, Reisu was growing increasingly worried about his absence in the capital as he spent a full week now from home. He was naïve to think this venture would take a day—he knew that now. So he was anxious for some type of evidence that his disappearance was known and someone would come take him home any second. Besides this, there were plenty of other things he could really complain about but he decided to push the negative thoughts from his mind, returning back to the present.

Currently, Kai was talking with the _taisho_ —the captain that was stationed there. It was small talk at best if you discounted the man trying to brownnose his way into the General’s good graces, who was having none of that mind you. It would’ve made him laugh if he hadn’t been used to it already, restlessly shifting from foot to foot, trying not to get distracted by cumbersome thoughts again.

“Perhaps the savages have decided to abandon their destructive mission. A whole week of inactivity compared to their first three days of straight hostilities makes for an irregular pattern. Don’t you agree, my lord?” Suggested Aoki, resting his arm on his katana, eyes trained on the general.

Rich-brown orbs blinked. “No, not really.”

Taken aback by his bluntness, the man opened his mouth to reply before the doors to the room were forcibly slid open, a younger samurai stumbling in, almost out of breath. Aoki looked embarrassed by the rudeness of the gesture and quickly opened his mouth to address it, “What is the meaning of this—”

“They are coming through the mountains, my lord! T-The savages.”

Kai’s whole demeanor changed at this information, leaving the room in a burst of speed, calling out orders through Aoki’s manor. Reisu, feeling his heart about to beat out of his chest from fearful excitement, was right behind him, silent and observing, feeling like his patience was finally being rewarded. People were mobilizing so fast, he didn’t even realize when a stable boy approached them with horses before hurrying away to assist others.

“Reisu—”

“Yes I know. Stay at your side,” the blond finished quietly, snapping his reigns to encourage his mount into a fast gait.

The general nodded, satisfied as they rode through the town, gathering both his forces and the warriors that had already been stationed there, all mounted and armed to the teeth, ready to respond to the tension that had been thrumming through the atmosphere for days. The civilians could only look quietly from inside their homes, watching with worried expressions, some seeing loved ones that they prayed would make it back safely.

“With me, my warriors!”

A passionate shout answered him, feeling the men’s courage and eagerness bolster his spirits too, and feeling like he could do anything—face any foe. And as to remind him, the weight of his _Bo_ staff seemed all the more lighter on his back, anxious to finally use it on a foe that wasn’t in a training environment. No, this was a real battle. No one would pull their punches here when any move could be fatal.

Swallowing back his anxiety and trying not to be overtaken by the sound of his heart beating wildly in his chest, Reisu urged his mount faster and faster as they traveled along the Tokaido highway, assuming that his cousin knew where he was going to intercept the opposing army. Just from a quick survey around him, it was safe to assume that they wouldn’t be coming from the sides (too many hills) otherwise they wouldn’t have been sighted. Then where—

“Halt!”

At his command and sudden stop, the small army of about 6000 samurai and elite soldiers came to a screeching stop, horse’s whinnying in displeasure. Confused, Reisu from Kai’s right side, was about to question him but the unwavering gaze ahead of him was too tempting to not look as well.

The prince felt his heart stop for a hot moment.

Standing across the river that acted as a line with just as many warriors as their own—if not more—was the Demon in all his menacing glory, garbed from head to toe in sheer black armor, atop a steed that was more dangerous than any horse. It was a lion—it had to be; protected lightly in silver plating’s along its considerable length. It was the only one he saw, much to his relief, already feeling a terrible unease travel down his spine. They had already been here—as if they had been anticipating there arrival the whole time. Who does that? Just sit and wait for their enemy? It was unnerving and it showed Reisu how arrogant and cocky the man must have been. If only he could see his face… He would look upon the visage of the man who they called Demon if it hadn’t been covered by the helm. Surely the man must fit the ugliness and savagery that often came when thinking of a demon?

Nevertheless, the prince merely sucked in a breath, unwilling to let the tension get to him.

Movement from the opposing armies inner ranks drew their attention as a young samurai, blood dripping down his scared face, was shoved in front.

“That’s my son!” Lord Aoki seethed, pupils blown wide, looking ready to charge.

Kai merely held out his arm, barring his way, observing with the acuity of a hawk as the young man across the river began running towards them after meeting no resistance not to. The river wasn’t really deep—knee length really, so it provided little resistance as the Lord’s son desperately tried to make it across, feet actually reaching the opposite side—

Only to not take but two steps before he was dead.

Reisu felt the bile rise in his throat as nausea churned hotly in his stomach as the samurai stared gaping at them dazedly, an arrow protruding from his skull. Mere seconds and he had crumpled to his knees, a lifeless husk on the ground as the Demon lowered his crossbow, unbothered by what just transpired.

The effect was instantaneous.

Lord Aoki was charging in a passionate fury, their army following behind, bellowing in rage. Reisu was swept up in the tide of movement, still not yet having gotten over the sight he just saw. Why…why do such a thing? Let a man go, fill him with hope, and only to rip it all away so cruelly? It was incomprehensible, feeling like his bones themselves were weak from emotion at such vileness. Where was Kai? People were already clashing, the sound of steel and the agonized screams of the fallen were the only thing his brain could concentrate on. He had to find him, pulling on the reigns of his steed only for to beast to collapse onto his side with him crushed between the earth and dead meat.

Pain raced up and down his body, gasping as he struggled to push against the dead horse on top of him, freezing as a man suddenly appeared above him, sneering at his trapped prey. Blood caked his body like a second skin, taking the countenance of a crazed beast, sword reared over his head to split his skull in two. Goddess he was going to die in a guise that no one could care less about, just another body to add to the increasing graveyard of corpses.

Yet the sword never came down, the arm holding it lying detached on the ground as the man fell back screaming, clasping his bloody stump. Reisu blinked dumbly at his unlikely savior—Lord Aoki who only glanced at him unseeingly, madness burning in the depths of his eyes. The guilt and nausea returned tenfold, finding the strength to crawl out from underneath his horse, flinching as a body fell before him heavily, sightless eyes staring macabrely at him. He didn’t bother to discern if they had been friendly or not, stumbling to his feet, knowing that he needed to find his cousin. This…this hadn’t been what he imagined. He imagined glory and displays of skill…not this slaughter-fest. Whatever you knew of swordsmanship was gone here as you tried to survive, nothing but reflexes and instincts to guide you.

He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to see all these people dying like this.

Shakily he grabbed his metal staff from his back—just in time too for someone noticed him after downing his opponent, charging, attending to kill. The blond barely dodged, feeling metal slice into his arm, painful but luckily superficial. He was quick to retaliate, not allowing himself to think as he swung his weapon, grimacing at the dull ringing noise it made connecting with the man’s helmet. His opponent crumpled in a heap, groaning faintly.

Reisu couldn’t bring himself to finishing the man off, taking off to find his cousin and praying he wasn’t one of the bodies lying on the ground, fending off those that stood in his away…but never killing. He couldn’t. He just…it just wasn’t in his nature.

Perhaps the Gods had been listening for he did find his cousin, surrounded by three of the opposing army while four lay dead at his feet, face down and turning the water a murky crimson color. A couple of arrows littered his back and shoulder but thankfully they hadn’t punctured the armor going by how his movements haven’t slowed. He swung his blade skillfully at those that charged him, sliding out of the way and delivering fatal blows where he could. The sight gave him hope…

Only for it to be stolen as he caught sight of the man who started all of this standing not so far away, observing slightly, his beast mauling those that dared approach him not to far away. An indescribable emotion filled the blonde’s heart at the sight of him, hand tightening around his weapon. Perhaps…perhaps if he could stop him, all of this would end. But he had to reach Kai first.

A battle cry alerted him to an attacker behind him, catching the soldier’s sword on the midsection of his staff to use his enemy’s momentum against them to create an opening. The end of his staff met the man’s stomach, knocking him on his back where he knocked him out with a quick blow to the head. He didn’t have a moment to breathe—another man reappeared to take his place, just as aggressive as the last. He didn’t have time for this.

Metal bit into his side where his armor didn’t cover from his attacker momentarily outsmarting him, only preventing it from further digging into his side by striking the hand that held the sword, disarming him. His opponent grunted before unsheathing a knife much to Reisu’s surprise, reflexes fumbling to react in time. Again he was saved by the timely intervention of a spear plunging violently threw the man’s stomach, blood spurting onto the prince’s shocked face. He didn’t get a chance to see his savior for he was already turning to look for his cousin a second time, running towards him as he cut down his last assailant.

“Kai!”

Battle-hardened, brown eyes beseeched his own, softening at the sight of him as he reached his hand out towards him—

_Twang_

Reisu fell to his knees in object horror as Kai was shot in his right eye, arrow sticking from the socket as he fell backwards, howling in agony. Frantically he looked for the attacker and felt hatred twist inside of him as the Demon lowered his crossbow, approaching his fallen target. _No…please no…,_ the prince mouthed, voice stuck in his throat _,_ feeling as if all body functions had been paralyzed save for the tears that had sprung from the corner of his eyes. He could only watch weakly as the monster unsheathed a sword from his back, pointing it at Kai’s heart, saying something that Reisu couldn’t make out nor understand. Yet Kai, in all his pain and agony that he was in, merely grabbed the demon’s sword by the blade, mouthing something, lips twisted into pain, maddened grin.

And somehow, Reisu was moving.

He felt detached from his body as he grabbed the reigns of a horse that been spooked as its rider was killed, mounting it before it could run away. Staff at the ready, he spurned the beast into a mad dash, watching as the demon reared his arm back in what seemed like slow-motion, ready to thrust his blade into his cousin’s heart. As it crept closer and closer, the prince’s mind a screaming mantra of “no no no no”, he felt the lock on his vocal cords release, yelling furiously:

_“No!”_

That shrouded visage snapped towards him in a visible display of surprise just the moment Reisu’s staff connected brutally against the side of his head, sending his helm flying through the air.

But the prince didn’t register the sight of his enemy falling dully to his side, unmoving. He didn’t register briefly cradling his cousin’s bloody face in his gloved hands who didn’t even give a sign that he was alive. He didn’t register the struggle of getting the man onto the back of his horse in a frantic hurry as his strength continued to pour out from his side from the wound that he sustained earlier. Nor the urgent command to retreat that was immediately obeyed once he discarded his mask.

All his mind could think off, begging anyone that would listen—

_Please…don’t die. Please…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized sentences mostly used for another language.

 

“In here, in here quickly! Place him here!”

Four men, Reisu included, raced frantically into the dimly lit room, carrying there shallowly breathing bundle as urgently and tenderly as they could. At the physician’s behest, they placed their general onto a futon, lowering his head (the site of the injury) last and with more care, Reisu being the one to do so. The blood…it wouldn’t stop running; his whole head was caked in it. And the wound; the blond had to force himself to look away from the ravaged eye socket, nausea making his body feel weak upon catching a glance of twisted, skewered flesh and endless crimson. Perhaps it was more than just nausea weakening him, pressing his palm lightly to the injury at his side, his blood mingling with his cousin’s on his palm. Treatment would be necessary—most likely resulting in stiches, but his pain couldn’t compare to the _agony_ his cousin was endearing.

“My prince,” the physician’s looked briefly awed, as if he couldn’t believe that the son of the Emperor was in his house, “I’m going to need you to hold his legs while we treat him.”

“O-Okay.”

Reisu almost deigned to ask why but the man was already moving, bringing various containers filled to the brim with strange liquids while a teenaged boy (his assistant perhaps?) brought bandages and cloths. The samurai that had helped carried the injured commander had stepped outside the room, either from respect or probably not being able to stomach the encroaching medical procedure. The blond couldn’t say the sentiment wasn’t shared, sweat beading down his pale face as he firmly grasped the half-conscious man’s knees, holding them in place.

“Is he…going to be make it?” Inquired the blond hesitantly, unable to resist asking the question that had been applying pressure to his brain the entire trip back.

The man grimaced momentarily, opening the cork to the container that had a pungent smelling liquid. “That’s up to him. If the General has the strength left to survive this ordeal then certainly.” Precise hands wiped away the blood of the outer area of the wound, managing to avoid brushing against raw nerves with a cloth, passing it the boy who quickly rinsed it out in a bowl. “The good thing, if you wish to refer it as such, is that the shaft is still intact.”

Reisu didn’t quite make the connection in his brain, stress and anxiety causing his mind to not be as efficient as it usually was. “Why is that good a thing?”

“Because, I can remove the arrow in one piece instead of two. Eiji, if you would.”

The assistant nodded and got a strip of leather that he brought with the rest of his supplies, placing it firmly into Kai’s mouth, noticing the prince’s perplexed expression. The white-haired boy half-smiled weakly, stuttering, “S-So he won’t bite his t-tongue off.”

_Oh._

The doctor grabbed his utensils; an extremely thin surgical knife and equally small tweezers, looming over Kai’s head as he inched the sharp knife closer and closer into the wound. Reisu could only watch in muted horror as the blade met with the torn flesh around the shaft, Kai screaming immediately in response, limbs involuntarily flailing as they struggled against being held down. Reisu desperately wanted to ask what the man was doing but the words were like lead on his tongue, close to vomiting as he watched blood well up from the incision the man was making. It appeared as if he was enlarging the entry wound around the shaft, cutting through tissue and meat as his patient’s muffled screams bounced around the room. Once he was done cutting, the man began to slide a finger down the shaft into the _wound—_

Reisu nearly lost it.

“Master Jiichiro, what are you doing!? Why are you causing him so much pain?” He exclaimed over the muffled noises coming from his cousin, which had dimmed down to faint, pitiful groaning. He knew there was a reason, but passion and fear was clouding his reasoning, weakened by what sounded like a dying animal in place of his relative.

“My prince, I need to see if the arrowhead has lodged itself into his skull,” snapped the physician heatedly, having found out what he wanted to know and signaling for Eiji to give him something. The way he looked at the blond was as if he wanted to scold him for criticizing his actions, but politely refrained out of pure strength of will. “Fortunately, it isn’t so deeply embedded. Any more force and it would’ve breached his skull, which would’ve more than likely made the outcome of this procedure fatal.”

Knowing it was best to close his mouth and let the man work, the blond nodded faintly and continued to observe as the man grabbed his tweezers, placed his finger lightly along the shaft once more, and guided the tool along his finger. Again his cousin thrashed wildly underneath, sounding as if he was close to hyperventilating from how his chest was rapidly expanding. Yet all this didn’t dislodge the focused doctor from his procedure as his tool grasped the arrowhead, removing his finger. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began applying traction, Kai’s other eye snapping open as his body tried to lurch off the ground, howling through the strip of leather as his head was further traumatized.

Jiichiro kept pulling as firmly as he could despite all the movement, grunting when he staggered back on his hunches, holding the arrow for all to see. It was covered in gore, tissue and blood caking the shaft and clinging to the metal head in wet strips. It was out. Goddess it was out. He was going to be _okay_ —

Kai’s remaining eye rolled into the back of his head, body going limp, whatever conscious he had dissipating in an instant.

“Dammit! He’s going into hypovolemic shock! Eiji, get the periwinkle. Quickly!”

The boy scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself from sheer nerves, rummaging through drawers till he was able to find a syringe with a blue liquid in it. Reisu could only stare dumbly as the tool was passed to the doctor, uncomprehending when the man stabbed his cousin in the chest with it, injecting the fluid till it was completely empty. He didn’t understand…the arrow had been pulled out right? Kai was going to be okay right?

But his cousin wasn’t moving or giving any type of reaction that he was alive. He didn’t move when the doctor poured a bit of that green liquid onto that awful wound, muttering something about “disinfectant” as they cleaned it further. It was like he wasn’t here, like his presence wasn’t amongst them anymore. At least when his cousin had been screaming and thrashing---as traumatizing as that was—Reisu was able to see that he was still alive.

But this…this was nothing.

Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, unwilling to let them fall in front of others. He was a prince—and princes didn’t cry, especially in the presence of others. Yet…how could he not? Kai was gone now; all their efforts had been in vain and the man’s last moments had been nothing but a haze of torture and unnecessary suffering. They should have had the doctor give him something to put him to rest peacefully. Anything was better than what they just put him through.

It felt like his heart was bleeding, but in actuality, it was his untreated side, falling onto his rear feebly, vaguely noting how cold his kin’s legs had been just now. Not that he was doing any better; his skin was clammy with perspiration and lightheadedness was making it harder to concentrate. He had to use his hands to hold himself up, putting all his weight onto his arms.

“Your majesty!”

Vaguely he could make out the voice of the doctor, unable to resist the heaviness of his eyelids nor the haze drifting hazardously through his brain.

And then, there was nothing.

 

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

 

“My liege, your dinner is getting cold. At this rate, you’re better off giving it Regulus.”

Sitting on a throne in his own private tent, sat Erik the Conqueror, lost in thought, white bandages around his head as he burned figurative holes into the fox mask in his hands. Dark circles were underneath his eyes as if hadn’t slept for days which was perhaps furthest from the truth than his pride would like to accept. They were there because the coward who struck him from behind concussed him, causing the bruise-like marks to appear, rendering him unconscious for about a day. All he could remember was his own surprise upon turning around to see a masked attacker bludgeoning him in the side of his head. It felt like his very brain had bounced back in forth between the walls of his skull and he knew nothing else.

He had awoken in a tent some distance away from the battlefield, a flurry of activity buzzing around him with the screaming and the dull ache of his skull almost causing him to vomit from the dizziness. But the anger…the humiliation…it all came back in full force. He briefly remembered flying into a violent rage, stumbling around like a drunk, pushing everything and everyone aside in his quest to seek out the one who damaged his pride. Once the violent energy had subsided, he had collapsed on his bed again, holding his head, flashes of the Fox tormenting him. He wanted his revenge, to face him, reclaim his honor. No one had ever taken him off guard like that.

No one that was alive at least.

“I need to face him. Where is he?” Erik muttered lowly, enough that you could easily mistake it for just being a mumble to himself. But when his eyes turned to his advisor who was standing before him, expecting a response, the man pushed his glasses up his nose, sighing in a jaded fashion.

“Where is who, my liege?”

“You know who I’m talking about dammit! The Fox!” Snapped the king, patience all but nonexistent. Movement out of his peripheral accompanied with a low pitch growl told him that Regulus, his lion, didn’t care much for his loudness, turning his great, furred head away from him.

“The Fox,” Lysiel began slowly, cautiously, “is nowhere to be found. He and the rest of the enemy army retreated the moment you went down. I could only assume the man you injured had been the commanding officer or it had been a part of their strategy.”

“Why didn’t you pursue them?” The headache and his own burning feelings was causing each word to be punctuated with venom, very unstable at the moment. Consequences of his concussion and his own violent personality was creating a dangerous mixture. “Why didn’t you capture and bring him to me?”

The bespectacled advisor knew he had to choose his next words carefully; his king’s temper was fluctuating wildly and not even he would be safe when the man inevitably lashed out at the nearest thing next to him. “You are first and foremost our priority, my king. Seeing you incapacitated took precedence over chasing off a mysterious man that could be anywhere. Besides,” he paused, seeing his explanation doing an unsatisfactory job so far, quick to add, “I felt it would be prudent that you catch him yourself. That would be the only way to rectify what was done to you.”

And just like that, the lion was tame again, grunting in approval as he relaxed against his chair, absentmindedly reaching down to its side to rub Regulus’s head. It was more so for his comfort than the animal, closing his eyes, trying to settle his mind. It was proving to be difficult; his brain still felt like it was being beaten by a drum and dizziness would poke it’s annoying head up every five minutes or so. Not to mention visions of a grinning fox striking him down flashed behind his eyes, growing more malignant and warped the more he dwelled on it.

Grunting again, displeased, Erik reached for the plate that had been offered to him and dumped it in front of Regulus, scoffing as it was disposed of in seconds in a glimpse of teeth.

“Really, your majesty? It had been a jest when I made that suggestion. You need to recover your strength.”

“And you need to stop acting as if you were my mother,” snapped the young king heatedly before checking himself, knowing that Lysiel didn’t deserve this treatment for being excellent at his job. Scowling in a dour fashion, he rose to his feet. “…I need some fresh air.”

Grey orbs blinked in relief, nodding in approval. “An excellent suggestion. Should I prepare a horse?”

“No,” waved the black-haired ruler, finding a burgundy robe strewn across a table to drape about his body. He didn’t bother closing it. “I’ll walk around. At this rate, I feel doing something as simple as riding a horse could catch me off guard too.”

Embittered and annoyed, Erik left the tent by himself to walk around the camp, too much in a sour mood to acknowledge the bows and questions about his welfare directed his way. Curiously, the mask was still in his hand, unable to let go of his attachment to it. Perhaps it was just a painful reminder of his failure, to remind him that this couldn’t ever happen again. Or maybe he was just growing obsessed as he often did when something captured his attention longer than it should. But who was this person? Who had been behind the mask? That’s what it came down to. He didn’t know anything about the man save for a flash of inky-black hair and the metal staff that had rendered him unconscious. Maybe…maybe one the natives knew.

Erik knew he wasn’t in the best of minds but he didn’t care, grabbing a woman that had been fixing the patches in one of his men’s trousers by the back of her shirt, tossing her onto the dirty ground ungraciously.

“Oi. Why did you stop—oh, y-your grace! What an honor—”

“Silence,” hissed the irate ruler, the warning tone whipping the man into fearful quietness. Chuckling softly, Erik leaned down somewhat close to the woman’s face, tilting it up by the chin so she wouldn’t break eye contact with him. She was pretty, in a plain way if you ignored that she was close to tears. “Do you know who this belong too?” By this, he gestured to the white fox mask in his other hand, feeling his unstable anger flare up at her obvious confusion. “Come now, tell me and this will end well for you.”

She opened her mouth and said something in her language, frustrating the king despite knowing that the natives still didn’t know their tongue. It wasn’t something that would happen overnight—it just wasn’t logical. Despite this, the mind of the slighted king couldn’t comprehend this or just refused to. His cognition of her was that she was in league with the Fox and was protecting his identity from him. Such was the state of his mind, making up illogical hallucinations that only made sense to him.

“You, come here,” he called, snapping his fingers for the soldier that had been overseeing the woman to come closer. Unease made his movements stiff but he obeyed immediately, not quite making eye-contact out of fear. “Take this woman to the whipping post and give her lashes till she tells you who the owner of this mask belongs too.”

“B-But sir, she doesn’t understand our tongue—”

“Are you disobeying a direct order from your king, soldier?” The dark circles underneath Erik’s eyes only served to make the expression he was wearing more frightening, his next words dangerously calmly. “Don’t let her native tricks fool you. If she refuses to comply than it stands to reason you don’t stop whipping her…lest she’s dead. After all, the dead don’t have much to say, do they?”

The soldier bowed lowly without a word, grabbing the crying woman by her arm to lead her away. Erik, feeling as if he wasted too much time on something useless, decided to make his way back to his private quarters, the sun draining his energy more than he would like to admit. His head had already started spinning, pride the only thing keeping him from stumbling. Damn Fox-bastard would pay. Even if he had to burn everything to the ground to find him.

When he got back, slightly tanned skin had become paler than it should be, finding it difficult to maintain his balance. Lysiel was still there but he was accompanied by a teenaged boy with strikingly red hair and the extremely pale skin of the natives. The king wanted to be irritated but curiosity won out in the end.

“Who is this? You know Regulus doesn’t like children for snacks.”

Grey orbs sought out his own upon hearing his voice while the boy took a step back, looking submissively down at the ground, nervous, intelligent enough to recognize madness incarnate when he saw it. “This is Akira. He will be assisting me with learning the native’s language. He has a…inclination towards learning our language that I feel would be good for communication purposes.”

Erik had already been on the verge of dismissing the inconsequential brat but he perked up upon hearing that the kid spoke his language (choosing to not acknowledge the ‘learning’ bit), unable to stop himself from grabbing thin shoulders and staring with a mad intensity into those blue eyes. “Do you know who this belongs to?” Again he gestured to the mask, missing the exasperated look Lysiel sent his way. Really, he couldn’t understand the obsession.

“N-No. Don’t…um…no?” The struggle could be heard in his soft voice, trying to find the appropriate words in his limited vocabulary. He could literally sense the approaching danger to his well-being as Erik looked positively murderous at having his hopes dashed. Luckily enough, the king’s advisor was kind enough to intervene, not eager to look for a new source of translation should his lord snap.

“Would his majesty like to hear a suggestion?”

Sea-green hues narrowed ominously, rage directed towards the other.

“He probably doesn’t know who the ornament belongs to. But perhaps, he could help you find this person. We did capture some survivors from the skirmish. Seeing as they fought on the same side, they would be more privy to any information about this person.”

Once again, Erik’s rage had subsided and he nodded, releasing the boy who appeared to be on the verge of falling to his knees in relief. Without a word, he turned on his heel with a small flourish of his robe, clicking his tongue, an order for the great beast dozing against his throne to follow. He allowed Lysiel to lead them towards where they were keeping the prisoners, not eager to be back in the sun but determined to seek out the knowledge he so desperately sought.

They were being kept somewhere on the outskirts of his army’s camp, bound to stakes embedded in the ground. There was three of them, all of them bound by ropes and stripped save for a strange, clothed undergarment covering their genitals. They all seemed worn and on the cusp of dehydration, but grew wary upon their approach that rapidly changed to outright fear at the sight of Regulus.

The king found this to be humorous. They certainly feared the wrong beast.

“Akira, ask them about the mask,” Lysial commanded lightly, gesturing to the mask in his lord’s hand to further cement his understanding.

The teenager appeared apprehensive at first, knowing that he didn’t have much choice under that mad, green-eyed gaze. _“Who among you knows who this mask belongs too?”_

Upon hearing their native language, they all spoke, begging:

_“We will not resist if he lets us go.”_

_“Food! Water, please!”_

_“My children are they safe? Please, I must see them!”_

Akira’s heart clenched in empathy, feeling his mouth go completely dry as they looked upon him with desperation and yearning. Yet at the same time, he could see the confusion and suspicion behind each of their eyes, wondering why he too wasn’t enslaved and not malnourished as the rest of them. Those looks were becoming more common then he would like along with the whispers of “Traitor” behind his back. But none of what they were saying had answered his question, and he was fearful to convey this with the Mad King glowering behind him, not to mention his clumsiness with their language.

“Well?” Prompted his brown-haired master, knowing that the king’s patience was as thin as parchment.

“Um…food, water…children. Uh,” he made a gesture of running away, not exactly knowing the word for freedom.

Lysiel opened his mouth to speak, but Erik beat him to it first, a cruel sneer on his face. “Hmm…yes, yes, I can provide those things. Lysiel, your sword.”

Wordlessly, the advisor unstrapped his sword from his belt before giving it to his king who took it with a dark smile, his half-lidded gaze shifting onto their translator. “Tell them I will provide all these things, if they answer my question.”

Reddish-brown brows creased in consternation, trying his best to decipher the gist of the words, knowing that was all that stood between him in early grave. _“He says he will give you what you want, if you answer my question.”_

_“And how do we know that? He’s holding a sword; clearly he doesn’t have any intention—”_

The rest turned into a wet gurgle as Erik, unsheathing the weapon in his hand, swiped it cleanly along the man’s throat, watching him struggle and choke on his own blood till he was still, a red puddle forming a crimson halo around his head. Lysiel gave him a questioning look, one that he returned heatedly. “I may not understand their silly language, but I know defiance when I see it.”

Horrified, the remaining two samurai looked pleading at the teen who appeared as if he was going to get sick any second. _“The man wearing the kitsune mask—we don’t know who he is! General Hiyato said he was his retainer so he was always following him around. They should be back at Hakone Checkpoint! It is not too far away from here.”_ The samurai that had mentioned his children revealed this information desperately, figuring that if he told them what they wanted to hear, he would be able to be let go and see his family again. Despite this, his honor as a warrior of Oshisan felt stained the moment those words left his tongue as he sold out a man that had fought at their side, seeing this reflected in his comrade’s disparaging gaze. But his family needed him.

Erik observed impatiently as Lysiel tried to dissect the broken message the boy relayed to them, expecting something from the gibberish the prisoner spoke. And going by that familiar, thoughtful expression from his friend, it was at least something that could be useful. “What is it? What did he say?”

“The man—the one I mentioned earlier—you shot with the arrow, was their general. The masked man you seek is his vassal of some sort. It’s safe to assume that your target is located at this Hakone Checkpoint, where there general is probably recovering. Trying to go anywhere else that is a considerable distance away wouldn’t be wise with such a grievous wound.” Lysial purposed, giving the boy a nod of approval who seemed only to withdraw into himself, trying to hide the shame and disgust he was feeling.

Finally something of use; Erik felt the anger and frustration that had been brewing in the back of his mind finally simmer down into a shaky calm, turning his eyes on the man that had revealed this information. “Thank you—that hadn’t been hard, yes? Hmm…well I have no further use for you…you may leave.” The samurai regarded him with hopeless confusion, of course not being able to decipher his words but quaking as Erik raised his sword…

And cut his binds.

“You may leave,” reiterated the king with a blank expression, making a dismissive gesture as the man rolled his wrist around, trying to get blood circulation back in his limbs. Erik completely ignored the bewildered gaze both from the freed prisoner and the other one, turning on his heel to leave. He made a move to pat Regulus on his head who had been sitting ever so patiently on his hunches, an innocent gesture from those who didn’t know him. Going from Lysiel’s sigh of disapproval it was anything but as not moments later, the great beast launched itself at the man who had only taken a couple of steps towards freedom before he was ripped apart by a hungry animal.

Erik was a man of his word; he meant it when he said he could leave…just forgot to mention that it would be in pieces.

 

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

****

_“Someday I’m going to see the whole world!”_

_“You think so?”_

_“Mhmm!”_

_“And how are you going to do that?”_

_“I don’t know…but I will.”_

_“…Reisu…?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“If you let me come with you, I’ll protect you.”_

_“Of course! I wouldn’t leave you!”_

The faint vestiges of a dream danced teasingly on the groggy edges of Reisu’s mind, something that he thought was worth recalling but it twisted away between his fingers. Sunlight drifted blindingly throughout the room, swathing the enclosed space in warmth and irritating the rousing prince. It was like daggers to his brain—the brightness that is, covering sensitive eyes with a pale hand, which only helped very little. Movement flickered in his peripheral and hazel orbs tracked it, squinting at the familiarity of white-hair and nervous fingers, deeming it safe to close his eyes with a weary sigh.

Oh right…Kai.

“How is he?”

Not expecting his voice, startled, Eiji jumped a little out of his skin, turning nervous grey orbs onto the prince lying tiredly on the futon near the window. “O-Oh! Your majesty, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Totally dodging the question of course… Suffice it is to say, Reisu was only on the journey to recover his strength so he didn’t persist with that line of questioning (for now), propping himself up on his elbows as much as his body would allow. “Forgive me for being crass, but I feel like shit.” The crude words left a curious, lingering, burning sensation, inwardly laughing at having thrown years of etiquette and proper speech out the window with just that sentence. He felt like it would save more energy if he allowed himself to be direct.

The assistant smiled softly, heading towards him so he could kneel at his side, brushing a stray lock of snow-white out of his face. “My apologies, but that’s your body still saying you need rest. Your wound,” ash-grey eyes drifted downwards to a bandaged torso, “has been treated—it needed stiches. But it wasn’t too deep and it will heal nicely. You did lose some blood…paired with stress and anxiety taking its toll on you: you’ve been rendered unconscious for a couple days.”

“A couple of days…?” Echoed the blond faintly, blinking rapidly. His mind wasn’t at its usual sharpness but the inquiry had already formulated on his tongue. “What’s been going? My co—err General Hiyato, how is he?”

The teenager paused, apprehensive, as if he didn’t know where to begin. “Well, things are finally becoming stable since there has been no figure of authority since both you and the general have been out of commission. The chain of command has been shaky as Lord Aoki has been…um…not fit to make decisions.” Sympathy glazed over his expression as he said this, averting his eyes from questioning hazel ones. “Lieutenant Kousuke has taken charge but—forgive me for saying this—he isn’t one you should really look to for leadership. We really need a more fitting candidate…”

Reisu tried not to look uncomfortable at that hopeful gaze, already hearing the unspoken request in the air. Luckily, the other male didn’t press him further, clearing his throat a bit before he continued on, “Oh yes, we managed to stabilize General Hiyato’s condition but he’s still unconscious and he needs a lot of time to heal. Master Jiichiro feels like we don’t know the full extent of his injuries—mostly in regards to his mental health. Such trauma has a tendency to have lasting effects on the brain; combine that with the momentum the arrow accrued when lodging in his eye…” Eiji coughed apologetically upon noticing the blonde’s increasingly paling skin complexion. “Well you get the idea.”

“Can I see him?” The request was uttered quietly, soft hazels downtrodden and hidden by black-tipped hair.

His answer was a sympathetic blink and a weak smile. “I-If you can manage the walk…your body is still recovering.”

Defeated, and knowing any protest would just waste his energy, the prince fell back onto his bed, running a hand through his hair only to pause. Last time he touched his hair, it had felt dry-ish due to it being dyed but now… Confused, curious fingers pushed a couple of strands to come into his line of sight, blinking back at Eiji with a raised brow. A sheepish grin was his only response for a moment as the teenager turned away from him, a faint blush dusting fair skin.

“A-Ah well, you needed to be washed and that of course meant your hair too. And,” he swallowed, embarrassed, “some people were questioning your um…heritage. For those that have seen the prince, it has been said his hair was the color of the sun. So to appease certain people’s suspicions, some house servants washed your hair when they tended you. Some of it stubbornly, namely on the edges, remain.”

It made sense but that did nothing to dissuade the tide of embarrassment at the prospect of girls possibly seeing him naked, or anyone for that matter. No one’s eyes (save for his own and his mother—may she rest in peace) ever beheld him naked. To do so was sacrilegious. Had things been how they should, those girls probably would’ve been executed. But all he could do was feel grateful for the care and concern he was showed.

“Does his majesty need anything?”

Hazel orbs closed at the gentle prompting, feeling the soreness of his body finally making itself known to him, an ache he had never had the displeasure to experience himself. “No. Just some more rest would be good.”

And maybe for things to turn around.

****

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****

A few days passed between bouts of fitful restfulness and time spent getting used to the soreness that came with moving about, regaining his strength steadily till he was able to walk about without getting fatigued. Eiji had been his primary caretaker with occasional sparadoic visits from the town’s physician when he could spare time away from the still unconscious General.

Reisu had been to see him—a couple of times actually.

Each time had been no different from the last; Kai lay there in a near-comatose state, wound wrapped neatly in bandages that was changed daily. He looked paler and less lively than Reisu had ever seen him…but that might’ve been because of the absence of alcohol. The blond had taken to speaking to his cousin’s unconscious form, embarrassed and deeply apologetic at first before becoming sadly more somber as the days passed. Concerned…worried…hoping for the best. Hoping that those teasing eyes (or rather _eye_ now) would open and those grinning lips would say something crude that didn’t belong in civilized conversation. No such thing happened of course; he lay there unresponsive as always and the prince left more disappointed and stressed as ever.

Without Kai, the person that inherited command had been him. And it was stressful to put it lightly.

Reisu didn’t know anything about running a village, let alone a company of samurai. He had met the Lieutenant; a fumbling, nervous man under pressure who was better at deferring to someone else than vice versa. The guy was nice and had been eternally grateful once the mantle of leadership left his shoulders. The prince couldn’t say he shared the sentiment, unused to being asked his opinion on everything or having to decide how food was going to be rationed out and other overwhelming inquires. There wasn’t going to be much to survive on as goods stopped arriving and travelers (merchants too) grew sparse upon the loss of the battle.

Not to mention, the lack of response from the Shogun despite writing himself.

It was terrifying to say the least. He wasn’t the type to abandon anyone in need but the security of having the possibility of someone coming to take him back to the capital had always been a comforting thought. But now…now the true fear of that cushion not being there was crushing. Sometimes, during the night, he would awake from sheer anxiety alone, unable to hide away from troublesome thoughts of people attacking during the night. But it never happened. Nary had a word or sighting of the invaders ever came by, as if they just gave up.

Of course, he was too realistic to assume such a thing. But he wasn’t cruel enough to smother the hope of the people that lived there.

Yet he was running out options. A part of him wanted to evacuate the civilians; another wanted to stay and fight out of some silly notion of honor and a desire to avenge his cousin’s terrible injury. He was stuck and the only council that would be worthwhile was locked away in a man that seemed to be in a cationic state. Not Kai…but Lord Aoki. The man hasn’t left his room since they had retreated from the battlefield. The blood from their enemies still stained his form, unresponsive save to move to eat whatever meal had been left outside his door. Reisu tried offering his condolences but it was like talking to a dead man. Quite frankly, it was frightening so he left, never to return that room.

So he was alone, with the fate of a thousands in his hands.

Eiji was nice to talk to; intelligent, respectful, and most importantly, quiet. He only offered his opinion (reluctantly) when asked but often stayed silent when checking the prince’s stitches every other day. It had become routine: talk with the samurai, walk around town, rest, complain to the physician’s assistant, and try to sleep if his mind would let him. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up; the situation was tense and overwhelming and he had been thrust into this without guidance. To think he once thought adverse situations and battles and war to be delightfully challenging concepts…

His previous naivety was enough to almost bring tears to his eyes.

Smoothing out the wrinkles in his blue kimono top, hazel orbs closed in a silent prayer before he slid the door open to where his unconscious cousin rest, kneeling next to him. Stress was written all over his face, too much for someone his age should bare.

“I don’t think I can keep this up anymore,” he began shakily, gazing down at his clenched fists on his lap, as if ashamed at his admitted weakness. “Supplies won’t last forever and rations will continue to become stricter and stricter till there’s nothing left. The people seem to think those…savages have gone but I know better—they are just biding their time, probably waiting for us to weaken. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to sit here, waiting, like a scared turtle in its shell. I want to get everyone out of here; but the civilians…this is their home. I can’t get them to abandon it, not peacefully anyway.”

Exhausted hazel’s closed wearily, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. “I wish you were up—you always knew what to do despite being intoxicated half the time. I didn’t appreciate that before; I thought it was easy but I know better now. I was childish before…foolishly so. Perhaps this is why the Honorable Shogun does not answer my cries for help… Perhaps this is my punishment for being so cocky.” It hurt saying these things, but it was the raw truth and he needed to acknowledge it verbally. But he wasn’t strong enough just yet, reaching out hesitantly to touch his cousin’s hand, drawing strength from the faint warmth.

“I want to avenge you Kai, without a doubt. If it hadn’t been for that Demon, none of this would’ve happened! You wouldn’t be laying here like this…so quiet. That bastard! I’ll…ugh.” Teeth clenched while tears threatened to escape his control, Reisu’s lips contorted into a heated snarl, remembering black armor, the skin of a monster. He didn’t see his face—he had turned away to flee. But the monstrosity he envisioned in his mind was befitting of a demon: twisting horns, grey skin, serrated teeth. It was why the creature probably hid his face; not even the demon could stand its own abhorrent appearance.

So wrapped up in hateful thoughts, he didn’t notice the hand he had been touching wrap around his own, not until he heard that low rasp:

“Do…what? Get me a cup of some…warm sake…ah…perhaps?”

Disbelief coursed hotly in the prince’s veins as a single grey orb smiled affectionately at him, turning his head so he wouldn’t see the single tear that fell from his eye. “Being shot in the eye hasn’t made you any less of an imbecile I see.”

The general wheezed out a laugh, body shaking just a bit. “Nope, just made me want to drink…a lot.”

It should have been predictable really; the blonde wondered if alcohol was what pumped through the older male’s veins. But he had saw what poured out of him…glistening, wet, and _crimson_ —Reisu grimaced, looking down at their conjoined hands somberly, trying to suck ease out of the atmosphere. “You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You were at death’s door.”

“And here I am.”

“This isn’t funny,” Reisu scolded, tiring of the light quips.

A single eye blinked demurely, alive with familiar black humor. “Yet I’m alive and thus allowed to laugh, right?”

“Stop with the dry wit! Why can’t you understand the severity of you almost dying!? You’re the Shogun’s general! What would we do without you?” The unspoken question hung heavily between the pair, choosing to hide it in the form of another, ignoring the weak squeeze at his hand. He’s an idiot; even now when he’s all banged up and literally half-blind he wanted to approach everything lightly. It was something that annoyed him to no end, feeling his anxiety play uncomfortably with his stomach.

Again that single storm-grey orb blinked with silent understanding, becoming half-lidded with a curious emotion. “We don’t know…and what good does it to speculate? I think,” Kai sucked in a breath, appearing more drained then he let on, “we should acknowledge the true fact here.”

“And that is…?”

The curious emotion seemed to intensify. “You saved my life, Reisu Akihide.”

The Prince of Oshihan remained quiet, deceptively blank save for the intensity of his gaze.

“You saved my life,” repeated the General with a heavy murmur, letting his free hand brush cautiously against the linen of the gauze wrapped around his head. “And I don’t think anyone has done such a selfless thing for me in my entire life. Either that or I don’t remember,” he finished off with a shaky laugh, coughing, looking as if he would pass out any minute.

Reisu tried not to be so alarmed, but he was beginning to get embarrassed by the intensity of that unyielding gaze, courteously removing his hand from the other’s grasp as he looked away quietly. He missed the brief emotion that flickered in those stormy depths. “Well, anyone would’ve done it... It was the most sensible thing to do.”

“Mmm…right.”

The prince opened his mouth to retort but he jumped when the door slid open roughly, a bald samurai stepping in the room, looking pale with distress. Briefly his eyes went wide at seeing the General conscious but he shook his head to get rid of his wonderment, talking before the blond could demand a reason for the rude intrusion. “The Demon is here—at the gates with his entire army!”

All the warmth left the room at those words.

“Surely, you jest?” Tested the prince in muted, well-hidden horror, foreboding finally being validated. “He cannot—”

“It’s the truth, your Majesty! He stands there waiting with his entire army at his back, clothed in black armor.”

Then it was true; he remembered that form garbed in that hellish plating, the shell of a demon. The monster had arrived to devour them, just like his intuition said it would. And here they sat, waiting patiently to be eaten in their homes. A mixture of cold fear and passionate hatred infused the slender form of the prince, about to raise to his feet in reaction only to be stopped by a feeble grasp around his wrist. Startled, scrutinizing hazels glanced upon his kin, almost wishing they hadn’t.

Desperation beseeched him…and an understanding born of fear.

“Don’t.”

“I must.”

The resolution behind those two words brokered no argument, not looking back as he was freed unwillingly from that weak grasp, quickly heading to the armory for his weapons. Come what may, he would prepare and he wouldn’t go down without a fight. He found his preferred _Bo_ staff propped leisurely against the wall, the weight of it making his body stiffen from a small residue of soreness. He wasn’t in tip-top condition but it wasn’t like he had time to sit there and twiddle his thumbs as he recovered. While he was adjusting a light layer of chainmail over his clothing, out of his peripheral was a lone _kusarigama—_ a chain-sickle. It’s been awhile…

Determined fingers picked up the weapon, attached it to his belt, and left for the gate.

People were amassed outside of their houses, their whispers like a contingent of bee’s flying about which only grew more agitated as he walked down the street, face a mask of stoicism. As he got closer and closer to the town gate he could make out the figure of the Lieutenant rushing frantically towards him, losing his composure. In his hands was something that made his throat tighten, blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all sound.

It was his mask.

“He wants to duel the owner of this mask. His conditions are that you show and fight him or he’ll raze the whole village to the ground. If you win, he’ll leave. Lose and…well you already know.” Grunted Kousuke, staring at the prince imploringly, and a frown as grim as the situation forming on his face.

Golden brows furrowed in wonderment. “How are you able to communicate with him?”

The Lieutenant’s expression darkened. “The man has one of our own acting as a translator.”

“I see…”

What option did he have? He couldn’t _not_ heed their enemy’s demands; everyone would be dead faster than he could blink if he didn’t. He couldn’t abandon the people to such a gruesome fate—it wasn’t what prince’s did. But one-on-one combat? Did he have the skill to best a demon? Surely, a part of him, a savage part, relished at the idea of getting uninterrupted revenge on the man for what he has done. But another more logical part balked away at facing such a monster to the death. Could he win? Maybe. He wasn’t a bad fighter—as he liked to preach to his uncle and father. Now, did he have the skill to back it up now that he was given the chance? Perhaps. If it weren’t for the fact that everyone’s lives weighed on him like he was carrying the world itself on his back, he might’ve felt more confident in his abilities.

The fox mask seemed to grin mischievously at him.

With a sigh he donned it on, drawing the samurai’s uncertain gaze. “While I fight him, you need to excavate everyone and be discrete about it. I will fight him for as long as I can to give you enough time.”

“You don’t think you can win, my prince?” Inquired the warrior with a hint of pensiveness in his tone, doubt in his eyes.

Luckily the mask hid the narrowing of his eyes, but it did nothing to hinder the curtness of his reply. “Do you trust a demon to honor his word? Would you trust a starving wolf to not maul a baby if left alone with one? We don’t have the time to assemble quickly and defend this place. You must leave and head to Aomura.”

“Y-Yes of course. Forgive my foolishness,” fumbled the samurai, bowing quickly before leaving.

_Gods give me the strength._

Sighing as if he was man who walked a thousand miles, Reisu continued on till he was but a foot outside the gate, getting a birds-eye view at the impossibility before him.

There was just as many as there were before; as if their little skirmish didn’t even put a dent in the man’s forces. Standing before his horde off demons was the king himself between three others, two of them masked atop lions, the other astride a stallion that had a red-haired boy seated on the back. But hazel eyes only had the sight for the man dismounting his ferocious mount, eyes widening slightly at how he wore no helm this time.

It wasn’t the face that he’d been expecting of a monster. The prince had predicted a face out of a children’s nightmare, yet the one that stared back at him was anything but. The man was young and handsome, with green eyes as light and clear as the sea but shadowed by the dark circles hanging underneath his eyes. His hair was as black as midnight, disheveled and wild, only reaching to his ear. Gauze wrapped tellingly around his head and Reisu allowed the barest flash of satisfaction to warm his body as he grew unsure, naivety once again hindering instead of helping. He expected the face of a monster but this was not it.

But those eyes…those eyes sweltering with the heat of wildfire, were those of a savage predator, a monster if he ever saw one.

Some semblance of composure came back at this observation, taking a step forward as the demon did the same, realizing that they did have a fair distance between them. They did this till they were about a man’s length away from each other, feeling the burn of hungry eyes linger upon his masked face, ready to feast.

The man smiled wildly at him.

_“How I have dreamed of this, Fox! Today, I will fight you, and only one shall walk away.”_

The language was rough and coarse to his ears, not understanding but hearing the encroaching violence behind each word, seeking the _Kusarigama_ at his side, sliding into a practiced battle stance. The weighted chain began to sing quietly as he swung it slowly at his side in circular motion, wordless as the man appraised him in annoyed fashion, as if insulted by his choice of weapon. Still he unsheathed his sword from his back, holding it aggressively in one hand as he began to circle his opponent, an action the prince mimicked.

Both waited, circling each other like hungry vultures, waiting for an opportune moment to strike, for that one mistake. Focused amber orbs studied the man’s body language, studied how confidence and surety armored his body alongside the metal, how those sea-green’s seared into him with burning intensity. There wasn’t any openings in his stance, but Reisu was patient, knowing that opportunities came to those who waited. And his came in the form of the Demon springing towards him in a spur-of-the- moment decision, sword arced above his shoulder.

Reisu’s body tightened in reflex, moving on its own accord as he swung the weighted chain at his attacker, taking pleasure when it snaked around the man’s sword arm, halting the attack. But the prince didn’t allow himself to bask in his success and was bounding at the Demon, half-stepping, half-lunging, the sickle end aiming for the man’s throat. Flawlessly, the man’s other hand intercepted it just fast enough that the blade only managed to kiss his cheek, drawing a red line as the bladed edge dug into a metal-protected hand. The man’s sword hand twitched, still trapped in the metal coil, eager to bathe in his blood as it strained.

Battle-lust swam maddeningly behind those sea-green hues as they stared into each other’s eyes, locked in a brief stalemate.

Movement happened in his peripheral as he reacted to slow to the man kicking him in the side. Unfortunately it was his wounded one, releasing his grip on his weapon as he managed to take a shaky step back, a few strands of black-tipped hair getting sheared off from the swing of a sword. He hissed, sucking in a breath as he felt wetness slide down his waist, quickly grabbing his staff from his back. The man’s eyes sharpened at the weapon, baring his teeth as he charged again, the swings of his sword powerful and precise.

Reisu blocked each as best as he could but his strength was ebbing the more his side pained him, wondering how the evacuation was proceeding. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep up this dangerous dance or how long he could fend off Demon’s blow. It was as if each of his strikes was getting stronger, powered by an animal fury that scared him. The man wouldn’t stop until his body was lifeless on the ground, maybe in pieces judging from each rage-filled strike. Fortunately, the mask afforded him some measure of protection by hiding the fear he felt, grunting as he was being pushed back.

But for the barest of seconds, the Demon staggered during his swing, his footing unstable. The prince seized the chance immediately as he dodged nimbly to avoid the sword and struck him hard against his back. The man fell to his knees, grunting. Reisu swung again and again, collectively hitting him in his torso then finally in the back of his head, hard enough that the white bandages around his head started to become soaked in crimson.

Rage filled his body, rage for his cousin and his people and perhaps even for those innocent, nameless people he knew was killed by the man. It filled him as he prepared to unleash his final swing against the other’s unguarded head only to be met with surprise as the end of his staff met with the hard Earth, his side screaming at him from exertion. The Demon had rolled away, gathering to his feet with a murderous expression, blood trailing down the side of his face to drip off his chin.

Reisu huffed and willed his body to dash so he can recover his discarded sickle, his staff growing too heavy for his aching body to wield correctly. His strength was waning—fast. Yet his opponent didn’t seem to fare any better, readying his weapon again with a lesser amount of finesse shown previously. But still he charged with a quiet snarl on his face and again Reisu swung the weighted chain at his adversary, seeking to immobilize his legs.

But the demon didn’t allow it.

Hazel orbs widened in shock as the man caught the chain in mid-throw with a triumphant, sadistic smirk as he jerked the chain back, pulling the blond towards him so his fist could meet with that masked face. Blood welled nastily in his mouth from the blow, dazed as he fell on his side, trying to at least get on his knees. A boot found his stomach harshly and the air was ripped out his lungs, rolling onto his back with a choked groan, body seizing up with pain.

A metal object—two actually fell next to his head, brain uncomprehending of metal gauntlets alongside a sword.

_What?_

A heavy pressure settled somewhat at his waist, blinking blearily at the sight of the Demon sitting on his waist, settling most of his weight on his knees. The demonic expression on that grinning face made Reisu’s heart leap into his throat, icy fear clawing its way throughout his body. The creeping horror alerted him to his loss…

And to the victor goes the spoils.

The first punch he hadn’t been expecting, crying out when bare knuckles met his jaw in a flash of agony, the next and remaining ones at the side of his fist. Each blow seemed to be stronger than the next, struggling to get away but held down firmly by the man’s weight and his free hand, strength failing him. It felt like his skull would break and his mouth was drowning with the metallic taste of blood. The pain was unbelievable—an experience he never felt before. Pain consumed him to the point where he didn’t notice his mask skid off, the leather cord snapping from the onslaught, which suddenly and magically stopped.

Breathing hard, blood spilling at the corner of his mouth, half-lidded hazel’s looked faintly at his tormentor, each breath more difficult than the next.

The man above him was the picture of surprise, pupils dilated as his mouth was parted in a silent word. He seemed to be transfixed by whatever he saw, the spell breaking when Reisu coughed a line of red, consciousness threatening to fade away.

But it was all made agonizingly clear as he felt fingers dig purposefully into the open wound at his side and he howled.

He howled.

_And howled._

Till he couldn’t anymore and tears fell freely from the corners of his eyes.

A maddened excitement tinged with something else stared at him from above, wanting nothing more than to die right there to escape the approaching hell, feeling something twist in his side. It was as if there was hot metal being pressed languidly across his flesh, pained noises turning into choked whimpers.

 _“I was going to kill you…but…I like you. And I like to play with the things I like,”_ spoke the cruel man in that strange language of his, voice a hushed whisper. The excitement dwindled a little, keeping an eye on his captured prey as he brought his blood-stained hand to his lips, and licked experimentally.

The man sighed in pleasured delight.

Reisu felt like vomiting.

_“Mm, yes I’ll keep you. And maybe I won’t feel so bored anymore.”_

That was the last thing he heard before he was struck so hard that his brain knew no more.

And he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so action-y this time guys!

_**~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~** _

_Mourn for me rather as living than as dead_ – **_Aeschylus_**

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

 

It was a shame to say that it wasn’t surprising that he was used to waking up and not knowing where he was or how he got there.

Corrosive agony still thrummed in the area of his right eye as if it was still reliving that near mind-shattering pain over and over again, nerves raw and bleeding underneath a shield of white, permeating his entire skull with fire. It felt like his very brain was roasting in its own pot crafted from the bones of his skull and the boiling liquid that was his blood. It hurt, _Gods_ , it hurt more than anything he ever experienced in his entire life…and that was saying something.

Kai liked to think himself a man of strong constitution; he liked to think that he could take most things and come back stronger than ever. But waking up to this misery was a whole ordeal in itself, feeling the lingering ghostly presence of that bolt still entrenched so snugly into his eye. He didn’t remember much when the doctor had removed it save for being thrust into that almost endless sea of seething, coiling pain, nor when his conscious succumbed to ignorant bliss. Darkness had been his companion for however long he had been out before abandoning—no _relieving_ him of its dreary comfort for something warm and golden:

_Ah yes, Reisu._

Reisu with hair as golden as the sun.

Dear cousin, dear brother; he was all of this and more. Seeing him was like a balm against the cascading waves of pain brushing lazily against his skull, everything dimming down to a bearable blot in the presence of the sun. His younger kin had survived the battle, looking no worse for wear if not a little tired. But despite any weariness his cousin had been feeling—all was submissive to the relief and muted joy in those hazel orbs upon seeing him. But even that couldn’t compare to the resounding realization that stampeded throughout Kai’s mind over and over again:

_Reisu saved his life._

Kai didn’t need every detail; he was competent (despite his miserable state) to reach the conclusion that his cousin saved his life which was no small feat on his own given the circumstances. And with this information, his brain saw fit to latch onto this little detail as if this was the only thing sufficient enough to sustain its existence. It repeated this over and over within his mind without fail despite the fact he was conversing with the Prince, supplementing his tongue with words to avoid suspicion but otherwise growing obsessive over that little detail. And it shocked the general a great deal. He couldn’t understand why he just couldn’t be grateful of the detail and just move on. He didn’t understand why it was beginning to warp his perception of Reisu…inch by inch, one step at a time.

It scared him….made him irrational, but he was desperate enough to attribute this to the pain he was still feeling.

So it wasn’t particularly surprising when that man had so rudely intruded on their happy reunion, declaring the seriousness of the new situation, that Kai’s first reaction was to latch onto his cousin, weak as he was, and hoped that he would stay. Even though that simple action alone was enough to jar his injury and he had honestly wanted to fall back and howl like a beaten dog; but he didn’t. But Reisu… _Reisu_. Kai was going to lose it again, invite darkness to be his companion once more because at that moment, it whispered temptingly in his ear, enticing him like an old lover. But the light was going to go— _his light_. And when it left him, an irrational rage took him moments later as he tried to crawl from his bedside in hot pursuit of said light, only to be restrained by the samurai’s on standby at his room door. His rage wouldn’t be quelled…but the next moment was accompanied by a shocking pain to the back of his skull and he knew no more.

Thus his wakefulness to this scenario: of powerful, stinging rays of sunlight trying to worm its way past his eyelids; of what felt like the earth moving underneath his back; and that debilitating pain crooning through his head. Kai was almost fearful to wake up again, to face whatever dreadful reality was awaiting him—one where Reisu was not there.

“Rejoining the world of the living are we?”

The voice that greeted him was pleasant if not a little reproachful, prompting him to blink his one good eye, willing the world to stop its insistent shaking. “Where…?”

“You’re on a cart heading to Aomura. We should be there in a couple hours, so you’ve missed the worst of it.”

The worst of what exactly?

Words were like heavy lead on his tongue that held the grace and dexterity of an oily sausage, groaning lowly in his threat as he placed a hand at his throbbing temple. Confusion, among other things, were hindering his mind more than he would like, but he at least allowed himself to sit up, noticing the blanket that been covering him pool at his waist. Whoever tended to him at least wanted him to be comfortable. Perhaps Reisu…?

“Where is my cou—,” the words died quickly in his throat, brain functioning enough to make the correction, “my retainer? Where is he?”

Silence greeted the dazed general long enough that it allowed the man to survey his surroundings. Blue skies and white clouds among the steadily wall of trees moving on either side of him. It would seem he had been laying down on a horse-drawn cart, accompanied by a considerable amount of soldiers, a sight he was used to…from atop of a horse that is. So yes, you couldn’t blame the general for being more than a little disconcerted, focusing on the older male sitting across from him. It didn’t take much of an appraisal to know the man wasn’t swinging a sword anytime soon so it was safe to assume he wasn’t a soldier of any kind.

“Your retainer, I’m afraid, didn’t survive the attack.”

For some reason, time seemed to creep to a stop.

“What…do you mean?” The words wore clipped, seeped and perpetuated by venom as Kai’s brain began to boil viciously. “What attack?”

“The foreigners attacked us without warning. It was a massacre. Many people were slaughtered…including my assistant.” The man paused as if he needed to gather his bearings, a grimness about his face that did nothing to soothe the ringing in Kai’s brain. “Your retainer, who actually revealed his true identity to us a while ago, was the very Prince himself if you weren’t aware of this fact.” Something about his tone led Kai to believe that the man already suspected his knowledge of the subject but he graciously didn’t voice his thoughts. “He, among a majority of the villagers, didn’t survive—at least not to our knowledge.”

This sounded horrific to the wide-eyed man, instinct telling him this wasn’t the truth. And he wasn’t idiotic to believe that only the soldiers survived the encounter? How is that possible? There wasn’t any among their ranks that looked to be a civilian.

“Do you expect me to believe that? I wasn’t born yesterday—merely incapacitated. Are you telling me only soldiers escaped this said massacre, as improbable as that is?” Something in his mind was being born out of anger from this unrealistic situation, something nasty and unpredictable but he did his best to keep it in check, maintaining a civil tone as best as he could. “Lying to your General is an act of deceit and punishable by state law. Are you sure you don’t want to rescind your previous statements?”

Before the man could even properly reply, another voice that was rough with weariness (this one more familiar) interjected. “He’s speaking the truth; Master Jiichiro wouldn’t tell lies to a man who’s been at death’s door for a considerable amount of time.”

It was Lieutenant Kousuke, the samurai that was second in charge to Lord Aoki. The man was sitting at the front of the cart, directing the horses and keeping his eyes diligently on the road in case the beasts went astray. Seeing him caused a brief wonderment as to where the captain was but his brain didn’t have the capacity—or rather the time to burden itself with the whereabouts of another man when its primary concern was possibly _dead._

“So, our prince,” _my cousin,_ “is dead?”

The deathly silence that greeted the one-eyed warrior was more of a death sentence than any words could convey, feeling like his heart was literally about to burst open through his chest cavity from the declaration. Weakness drifted through the very marrow of his bones, bringing with it a cold chill that froze the very breath in his lungs. It felt like something was dying within him—dramatic as it was to say such a thing. But how could one feel anything but despair when your light ceased to be?

 _No, it’s not gone,_ hissed his mind fervently, persuasively. Yes, they were telling lies, all of them were. He wouldn’t believe anything till he was holding his cousin’s lifeless body within his very arms.

“Where is his body?” Inquired Kai coolly, all traces of losing control smoothly erased, as if he already recovered from such tragic news. Despite having only one eye, he didn’t miss the unreadable look shared between the two, further cementing his desperate beliefs. “Surely we must go back to retrieve his body to conduct a proper funeral as would be the Emperor’s desire.”

Jiichiro’s expression changed drastically, as if he swallowed something foul. He retrieved something wrapped in cloth from a bag that was on the ground, exposing it delicately for the general to see.

A blood-stained medallion with the Akihide family crest embellished within its core gleamed macabrely back at him, its shine melting the hope still struggling for life within the general.

“I’m afraid, there is nothing left of him to retrieve, my Lord General.”

 

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

 

_A few days prior…_

Awakening to the metallic, coppery wetness that cloaked his tongue and the walls of his mouth wasn’t something that Reisu was used to—nevertheless, the feeling of having been ran over by a herd of ox was the more prominent concern. His skull felt like as if it was the anvil to a blacksmith’s hammer, being struck repeatedly till the tempered metal that was his brain was as thin as it possibly could be. His body protested weakly at him, wondering why it was in such an uncomfortable, upright position, sore, bleeding, and definitely in need of a medic. He couldn’t move his arms—the blonde merely panicked at this till he flexed his hands and was met with something digging into his wrist, his hazy brain telling him faintly that they were bound.

Yes…this wasn’t one of the ways he was used to waking up.

Reisu needed to see his surroundings himself, needed to assess the situation for his brain was still having trouble recalling what exactly led him to this predicament. Bleary hazels blinked open demurely, taking a moment to focus before he was able to make sense of his surroundings.

Seemed like he was in a tent of some kind. The walls were made of some type of leather; a flap that looked to be an entrance of some kind wasn’t too far away; a wooden table that had a dim light providing the sullen glow about the place was to his left; a bed area to his right; and a fire pit a couple of feet away from him crackled with decayed embers. Immediately his brain began to shift through various scenarios that were beginning to grow more outlandishly the more the cries of his body weighted on his mind, sweat beading at his temple to drip down his chin, willing himself to focus. Reisu remembered fighting the demon, remembered those mad green eyes and that predatory smile. He remembered the relentlessness of the monster that attacked him while he desperately defended himself to the best of his ability, hoping fervently that the people in the town were excavating as fast as they possibly could.

The prince remembered being outplayed and falling to the mercy of a monster that hid in the shell of a man…then darkness.

Yes…that would certainly explain his current situation. Although why he wasn’t dead didn’t make any particular sense to him, so he attributed this to a cosmic joke of some kind, testing the rope bindings digging painfully into his wrist. Ah…not to mention said limbs were bound behind a stake, which was the source of his forced upright position. Certainly he must’ve been at the behest of the gods as some sort of temporary plaything. There wasn’t much hope to garner from this situation and Reisu wasn’t foolish enough to even fabricate even an inkling of it. And he wasn’t foolish enough to spend his energy trying to fight against his constraints, mostly due to lack of energy and the burning at his side.

The wound at his side still remained untreated, much to his chagrin. Apparently, whoever’s care he was in didn’t see it prudent to treat it. Lovely. Perhaps, if he did struggle, maybe he would pass out again from blood loss and wake up somewhere else.

Not having much else to do, the prince went about his dark task, struggling against the ropes for as long as he could tolerate them chewing into his skin and the aggravated pangs of misery coming from his side. By the time someone came through the entrance, the prince looked as if he was the survivor of some desperate battle, teeth clenched furiously, hair matted to his head with sweat, eyes half-lidded from a cascade of emotion.

_“Don’t stop on my behalf—a little more and you might succeed in injuring yourself.”_

The words he did not understand but there was no denying the mirth behind each strange syllable, forcing himself not to flinch away from the all-consuming tide of sea-green, the eyes of a monster. How could the gods allow such an abomination to exist, wondered the prince quietly, watching the man make his way to a chair at his table. His movements were like that of a powerful feline; lithe, graceful and purposeful…awaiting the moment to strike down its desired prey. Fresh, white bandages wrapped atop his head as well as the seemingly normal dark circles underneath his eyes. The demon was strangely divested of his black armor; garbed in dark-blue trousers; boots; and a maroon robe that exposed a bit of his athletic torso. Those glistening green hues did catch his gaze and the blond was quick to look elsewhere, a grim expression about his face.

Predictably, the monster chuckled lightly, masking the sound of a chair skidding across hard earth.

 _“I was beginning to wonder when you would wake up. It’s been about a day…and I’m in need of entertainment so this is as perfect time as any.”_ Said the monster in that incomprehensible language of his, leaning forward in his chair as he stared at the scowling blond like he was some type of rare specimen. Admittedly it was rather uncomfortable, but sheer strength of will prevented the prince from turning away. He didn’t understand the point of the man speaking to him—he couldn’t decipher his words so there meaning was lost upon him. But that didn’t deter the man from stopping though, carrying on with a sickening casualness, _“You would think a king would be endlessly busy when conquering a new land, but there is a surprising amount of time for…rest…before each move. So here I am. Hopefully,”_ Reisu felt something suspiciously like nausea churn in his stomach as the man’s tone softened, burning sea-green locked on him, _“your presence will change that.”_

The man liked to hear himself talk that’s for sure. But Reisu wasn’t surprised the demon would be consumed by his own vanity, warily eyeing the beast of a man as his body’s pain gnawed hungrily at his psyche. Even holding his head up to look at the demon was becoming too taxing so the weary prince allowed himself to look at the ground instead, hazels barely open, breathes coming out in shallow pants. Never was he so willing to surrender himself to the sweetness that was oblivion—anything that would take him away from this nightmare. Yet oblivion parted from him the moment he felt calloused fingers tip his head up, a murderous hatred rearing its ugly head in his soul.

The eyes of a demon shined down sinfully at him, trying to consume him in hellfire.

Without thinking, Reisu spat a globule of bloody spit at his captor, hitting him on his cheek.

The repercussions of his actions were immediate; a hand cracked its way across his face with the swiftness of lightning, head snapping to the side with the force of it, blood congealing and spilling out at the corner of his mouth. Pain speared his skull like a thousand hot lances and the prince was more than dazed from the blow, blinking back tears as the man stared blankly down at him from above, having wiped away his foolishness with the back of his sleeve. Instead of the fury he was expecting to follow, what eventually settled on that handsome visage was a dark amusement, the inklings of a smirk tugging at the corners of thin lips.

Perhaps that hadn’t been one of his more thoughtful plans.

 _“I didn’t know stupidity was a result of being in pain… Alas, I do understand. You’re hurting, right? And because of that pain, you are acting out in a way that isn’t conducive to your health, yes?”_ His tone was disturbingly sympathetic, prompting Reisu’s heartbeat to quicken, nearly leaping into his throat when the demon kneeled to his level. Sword-calloused fingers gripped his chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting his head this way and that, as if searching for something. The other brushed a couple more strands of black-tipped hair that had strayed into the prince’s eyesight with a gentleness unbecoming of a monster. To say the prince was scared was an understatement—he was downright petrified.

And the demon feasted on his fear, leaning closer to the blonde’s face till their breath was all but mingling together, his attention so focused on that demonic green that he forgot about those hands. _“I just want to help you… A king is a slave to his subjects so that doesn’t make you any different. So tell me, is this where it hurts?”_

So focused on the closeness of the other and the strange allure of his words that Reisu didn’t notice a hand approaching where the laceration on his side was till sensitive nerves were set on fire at the man digging his fingers into abused flesh. Howls of agony ripped from his glistening throat as he threw his head back and screamed intone with the wailing of his flesh, nearly sobbing as the demon made a rubbing motion, feeling liquid welling at his side wetly in response. Tears sprung at the corners of wide hazels but pride caused them to stay where they were, weak moaning noises leaving him like a tortured animal. Through it all, the demon appeared to be oddly enraptured by the whole thing, pulling back his hand to stare at blood covering it like a macabre, crimson glove. Curiously, he pulled it close enough so he could sniff it, appearing thoughtful.

Without much thought, the demon unsheathed a dagger from his side and began cutting off the soiled remains of the prince’s shirt, helpless to resist for his mind was still reeling from the pain.

_“Hmm…beginnings of an infection. Had you been better behaved, I would have gotten a healer to assist you. But I suppose not many ever have the honor of being treated by the king himself. Lucky you, eh?”_

Unsurprisingly, the words didn’t make any sense in Reisu’s frazzled mind, taking deep breathes in order to calm himself as the man went about revitalizing the fire in the little fire pit. Assuming the worst was over, the blond allowed himself to take a quick analysis of his wound, growing more than just a little concerned at what he saw. Yellow ebbed and mingled in the crimson of his blood, oozing from discolored flesh. Didn’t take a medic to know infection had settled in—or begun too. And with that would come fever…and maybe death afterwards, hoped a darker part of his mind. He wasn’t a quitter by any means but he seriously wished he could rest in the peace that came with unconsciousness. This man…no this _demon_ was insanity incarnate. Just looking at him, heating his dagger over the fire (why?), and appearing to be rather eager by whatever it was he was planning, only cemented the fact. Who purposefully tormented their captives like this in such a savage way? It was barbaric! And being on the end of such barbarism was incredibly trying—he couldn’t believe how much he wished to be back at home, reading literature and studying the ramblings of praised scholars, the stuff he took for granted back then.

This…this wasn’t any condition for a religious figure such as a prince should be in…even if he couldn’t help but feel like he brought this upon himself.

Sniffing a bit, exhaustion dulling the pain a little, Reisu only shifted as his captor approached him again, eyeing the glowing red tip of the sharp tool with mounting apprehension. A new coat of cold sweat seeped down his temple as that green-eyed gaze ensnared his own, searching his face for something going from the amused expression on that slightly-tanned face. _“You should be thankful to me, my golden-haired beauty. Not many are fortunate enough to receive my attention. Now hold still; this will only hurt for a second…”_

As those words were leaving that sadistic mouth, Reisu’s eyes were beginning to bulge out of his head as the man halted his frantic struggles with his unoccupied hand as that heated weapon inched closer and closer to his body. He could literally feel the heat radiating from the thing before its searing hotness set his skin ablaze, nearly losing it. The anguish of it was mind-shattering as he wailed like a dying animal, thrashing against the hand that held him down with frenzied, wild strength. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils; hazel orbs rolling into the back of the young prince’s skull as the heated metal traveled leisurely along the path of the wound, meat and skin warping nastily in its wake. Yet the demon was disturbingly patient throughout the whole thing, the smile behind his eyes the only indication of enjoyment of his actions.

When the whole thing was over, and Reisu’s vocal cords couldn’t produce more than hoarse whimpers, his captor tossed the blade away to behold his work, admiring the contrast of charred skin against the glistening paleness of the rest of his body. It was unbelievable how self-satisfied the man was of forcibly cauterizing a wound that didn’t need it.

 _“Feel better, yes?”_ Broached the mad king sweetly as he mockingly caressed the side of the boy’s face.

Reisu blinked heavily before turning away to retch at his side, heaving sickly.

The demon chuckled softly. _“Good boy. Perhaps you’ve learned a little of respect I hope. Now perk up, there is more fun to be had.”_

The traumatized prince didn’t register the light pat at his cheek, feeling oddly detached from his body as he struggled to reconvene within himself, unable to bare the sight of that monster cloaked in human skin nor the sight of his battered body. The smell was enough of a reminder…and he rather close his eyes to hide away from this new reality that was nothing but pain and madness. Sweet oblivion danced seductively at the edges of his peripheral and he implored his consciousness to take it, trying to breach the surface of this burning, dizzying pain he was in. The tears seeped from the corners of his eyes but his quiet sobs went unnoticed in the dimness of the tent, hearing what sounded like scribbling on parchment.

Whatever that monster was up too, at least his attention was finally elsewhere.

Reisu allowed himself to close his eyes—

_“I find it odd how a warrior like yourself is completely unscathed… One would think you’re not just any old commonality.”_

Reprieve was fleeting, as expected.

Hazy, amber hues gazed reproachfully as the man stopped whatever he was doing to survey him, appraising him for whatever reason he deemed fit. His eyes were hungry with an insatiable curiosity that made the wounded prince uncomfortable, flinching when fingertips brushed across his skin with downy softness. To even look upon his half-naked form was unthinkable but touching….! Thinking like that would be the death of him—his status was non-existent in the realm of the demons, no different from the other tortured souls around the place. His heart beat a staccato rhythm in his chest, growing louder as those fingers grew closer to the sight of black, twisted charred flesh, unwilling whimpers sliding from his throat as his skin quivered fearfully at the touch.

Those lips played into the most teasing of smiles.

_“I shall found out your secrets in due time…”_

_“My lord if I—shall I come back at another time?”_

A rather serious-looking, bespectacled man had shown himself in, carrying a scroll raveled neatly in his grip. He didn’t seem embarrassed upon walking in to such awkward scene, just apologetic if anything. The demon snorted softly and turned to greet the other, falling into a rapid conversation that was just a cacophony of encrypted words in Reisu’s mind. So he allowed himself to drift, letting darkness whisper sweet nothings in his ear…

_“What is it Lysiel? Certainly you don’t need my help to ration food or what have you…?”_

_“Of course not, my lord. I would never disturb you over something so trite.”_

_“Hmm…then what is it?”_

_“There has been word from the mainland…from your sister, sir.”_

A deathly pause.

“ _I want you to teach my guest here the Common tongue alongside your boy, Lysiel.”_

_“That won’t be a problem sir but your sister—”_

_“Can handle herself. I’ll see to whatever asinine thing she has written to me in due time. But I want those lessons to begin as soon as possible. I foresee myself growing bored of one-sided conversation. And you know what happens to the things I grow bored with. Now if you’ll excuse me…”_

_“Certainly my lord.”_

Then all was silent.

 

**_~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~_ **

Kai didn’t know why he was sitting here.

“This is worse than we possibly could have foreseen Lord Gujo. First we lost an important trade route in Hakone Checkpoint and now it has been declared the prince is dead? It’s one tragedy after another! What possible course of action is there to take?”

He didn’t know why he was sitting here in a stuffy room filled with men who haven’t ever in their lives taken two steps out of their asses. It was a modest precision of aristocrats, being treated to a formal meeting by the host, Lord Gujo, Daimyo of Tousaki province. Of course being the General of his honorable _father_ ’s army, his presence was necessary without question to act in his father’s stead. Not that he could care less what they did—sitting here preening their feathers like a bunch of fattened peacocks. It was disgusting—no, _they_ were disgusting. An encroaching horror was rearing its ugly head over there once peaceful nation and all they could do was sit there, fret, and wonder how much money would be able to influence just how safe they could be from this threat. Greedy, cowardly swine’s…all of them. It was a wonder how Lord _Gujo_ could have such animals in his home, feasting at his table, putting on the act of empathetic provisionary in his exquisite lavender robes and not-so-discreet-holier-than-thou attitude.

Inwardly, the General was reeling with disgust but outwardly, coolly maintaining his stoicism, he took a reserved sip of his sake.

“The best course of action, Lord Hariyama, would be to bolster our forces here. Aomura is a critical piece in regards to Oshisan’s world of commerce. Without it, the markets themselves would decline and many crucial families would lose their wealth.”

Immediately murmuring filled the room like a horde of bees as Gujo reaped silently in the discord he was spreading throughout the ranks of the minor lords. Kai was no fool; he could see what a couple of well-placed words could do to people’s minds. He was playing them; setting up the groundwork for their dependence. Anyone would do anything for a little reassurance…and where better to seek it from someone who at least sounded knowledgeable about the subject.

So the one-eyed general was content to let this especially showy peacock strut his stuff as he spoke more. “The Honorable Shogun also understands this as well and will do his best to gather support in a reasonable amount of time. Besides, Aomura is greatly protected. Our walls greatly fortify our defenses and there are ballista mounted atop the walls to lay ruin upon those that would attack us. The Demon and his hordes would have to lay siege to this city if they wanted to conquer it and that wouldn’t be in his favor if it became lengthy. Patience is key here, so don’t worry about anything that will cause you undue stress.”

The man’s reassurances were like the finest silk; the aura of tension that had been threading the air had softened immensely as everyone began to discuss this amongst their selves, as if the whole crisis had been averted all together. Once again, the general wondered what he was doing here wasting his time, sipping casually at his drink that might have as well been water for all the good it was doing him. His skull still felt like it was being beaten like a war drum; he wasn’t even the slightest bit inebriated; and there weren’t any gorgeous woman refiling his cup. Note, there were pretty, young girls, but unlike the ill-intentioned people in here, that didn’t quite suit his interest.

Yes what he dreamed about was gold. Warmth. The sun.

The man downed his entire drink in one gulp, not having to wait but two seconds before it was filled again.

His been in Aomura for about a week now. It’s been a week since the last time he’s seen his dear cousin and it’s been like living in a perpetual hell that knew no end. He was just recently allowed to treat himself to the dulling effects of alcohol under the physician’s permission…having had to recover in complete, mind-numbing sobriety. When he was sober, he was a different man. A man that was a victim to painful thoughts and miserable desires—at least that’s how he been lately. Ever since he got shot by that arrow, he felt like there has been a subtle shift in his cognition, like a delicate balance had been tipped in one favor.

It had been alarming at first.

Very much so.

But now, he was adjusting… _adapting._

Hadn’t it been for a few, half-joking comments from his samurai he might’ve not cared to notice much, but he was careful to keep acting the part of the charismatic general they knew, to stay in character. In Aomura, everything you did was watched and noted upon to be use for manipulation. No one was safe from this—not even him.

But it was okay. He knew how to play the game.

Yes…just stay in character and be patient.

Luckily, Kai’s patience had been awarded with the little gathering coming to an end after an hour or so of mindless chatter, getting up to leave when everyone had dispersed but stopping when he heard:

“May I have a word, General Hiyato? I promise it won’t take too much of your time.”

Knowing it wouldn’t aid him if he declined, the blond stayed, inching back into his seat with a raised brow. “Yes…as long as my cup continues to be refilled by something more potent than before.”

“Yes, yes of course,” agreed the daimyo with a wave of his hand, a girl immediately setting another hot cup of sake in front of him. Taking the general’s silence as approval, Lord Gujo took a seat at the head of the table, his hands resting in opposite sleeves. He appeared to have aged in a mere five seconds, having lost all the energy he displayed for the entirety of the hour. “Did my lord General enjoy the festivities?”

Must they engage in this trivial dance of polite conversation before they got to the real purpose of this extended talk? Thankfully, he was raised amongst the elite so he knew this dance like the back of his hand. “I wouldn’t see why I wouldn’t? You certainly make sure your guest are truly provided for, Lord Gujo.”

The man practically preened at the compliment but he kept this behind a polite smile. “Good. I would be afraid if my little events weren’t up to par…especially if the Honorable Shogun’s son was to be attending.” Gujo cleared his throat, straightening himself in his chair. “Do you believe what I said was correct? About patience and focusing on our defenses being our best course of action?”

“You didn’t seek my opinion earlier… I don’t see why now should make a difference, unless you believed my view would be completely different from yours and that would undermine what you fed to those people,” Kai said bluntly, taking a casual sip at his drink. Offhandedly he noticed it was much better than the stuff he had been drinking earlier.

Gujo didn’t bother to hide his surprise at the man’s directness but he merely chuckled with a touch of whimsy in his tone, brown eyes unreadable. “Heavens no, it wasn’t that. I could just tell that the general wasn’t particularly concerned with what was being discussed at the time. After all, not many has had the pleasure to face the Demon and live to tell about it.”

Kai froze only momentarily, but it was enough for Gujo to see that he did succeed in discomforting the general a little, striking a still sensitive nerve. His pride was still recovering and it was as painful a process as his eye healing. Still, the one-eyed warrior retained his composure, if not sharpening his tone. “I didn’t actually face him, otherwise there would have been a more favorable outcome. The man seemed to favor weakening his enemies from afar as opposed to fighting them one-on-one which was unfortunate. Perhaps it would have been him losing half his visual prowess if we crossed blades directly.”

“Yes, that is quite unfortunate seeing as your skill in battle has been frequently praised.”

“Indeed,” quipped the general dryly, mentally rolling his eyes at the not-so-subtle insult.

“However, there is one thing that went according to plan.”

Involuntarily, a single storm grey orb focused on the other occupant of the room, curiosity grudgingly provoked. “And that would be…?”

“The prince is dead, just like the Shogun wanted.”

What?

“Pardon?”

“The prince has met his unfortunate demise, which has been planned by the Honorable Shogun. Certainly, this isn’t new information to you General Hiyato?” Reiterated the daimyo, appearing to take on an expression of apprehensive surprise.

_What…?_

Something shattered dangerously like shards of glass exploding across the floor in his mind, something fragile, teetering on the edge of a cliff in Kai’s mind. His brain was struggling to process the impossibility laid out before him, words that suspiciously sounded like his dear cousin’s demise was desired by his father…whom was his uncle. It was preposterous— _slanderous_ even to make such a deathly accusation. Yet as one unblinking eye peered harshly into the baffled doe-brown eyes of the other man, he could see nothing but brutal sincerity there, like this had been common knowledge.

_No no no no!_

This wasn’t right!

It _can’t_ be right!

Father could be a little questionable in his desires sometimes or even perceived as cruel for the benefit of the people but never would he incur a national tragedy like that on purpose. Reisu had been family—hell even his father the Emperor was the Shogun’s brother. What purpose would having Reisu killed even serve?

No this was impossible!

The sheer ridiculousness of this abhorrent possibility was rending Kai’s brain into gooey, uneven pieces, having to impose most of his weight on the table via his hand as he rose from his seat, his expression that of stupefied disbelief. What purpose would that serve? Why? They were family—Reisu was family. His sweet cousin and his naïve ways…a desperate soul that was tired of being sheltered behind suffocating walls. Sure, they did to plot to sneak Reisu along on his excursion but there was no way that his father would’ve known this. Or even if he did, he wouldn’t allow Reisu to remain there for so long if his life was truly in danger. Unless…unless…

What Lord Gujo said was true…?

No!

Like a demon had possessed his body, Kai felt himself moving of his own violation, fingers seeking and wrapping around the elder man’s throat as he pressed him harshly against the table, scattering finery onto the ground to explode into millions of pieces. Muffled screams left the girls that remained but they stifled all sounds when Kai fixed them all with a murderous, demonic gaze filled with a restrained warning. Satisfied they wouldn’t leave this room, a single, burning grey eye returned to stare languidly at the wheezing man caught within his grasp, half-lidded in its murderous intent. Oh how he wanted to squeeze the life out of this old bastard; but patience was a virtue! He needed to wring answers from the man’s tongue before he silenced it forever.

“Talk.” One word, one breath. But the message was clear, especially in how the man started clawing at his hand to no avail.

“P-Please…c-can’t breathe…talk…!”

Kai lessened the pressure on the man’s throat, but only enough that he could say full sentences if he worked hard enough.

“S-Surely, the Honorable Shogun told you his…intentions when you were deployed to Hakone Checkpoint? He…assumed the situation was the worst case scenario and…believed this would be the appropriate time to have the former prince killed.”

“Why?” He hissed, venom oozing into that one word, unintentionally tightening his grip.

The man started turning blue, struggling for breath to Kai grudgingly relaxed again, inhaling delicious oxygen. “He…he…guessed Prince Akihide would want to go and sneak off with you out of youthful idealism. Thus…hopefully leading to his death by no one’s fault but his own.”

“ _But why!?”_ Kai said again, the anguish slipping in to mix sloppily with the fury, wanting to cause as much bodily harm to the man at his mercy as possible.

“P-Please! I-I don’t know! I don’t know why the honorable Shogun would want such…an outcome! P-Please let me go— _agh_!”

If it weren’t from the sobbing noises coming from the girls in the room nor a vague warning coming from his disembodied rationale, Kai might’ve crushed the man’s windpipe. And a savage, vindictive part of him that was drowning in anguish wanted to, to do anything to remedy the pain and betrayal that was swimming in his heart. His father may have had his own history with him, but he figured none of his father’s… _flaws…._ would ever effect other members of his family, especially his cousin! It made him sick to his very core, releasing the gasping man to the ground in muted disgust as he whirled around to leave, the flames of vengeance licking at his very mind. The heat of it was comforting; he had to stop himself from going to the stables, finding a horse, and riding back to the capital. This would do no good of course; as much as he wanted to choke his own father at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to pull such a thing off without having his hands cut off, court marshalled, then executed by decapitation.

If he was dead, how would he avenge his cousin?

The only way to do so, to put an end to the madness that was bleeding from every brain cell in his mind, he would have to take vengeance on his father…and the one who stole his eye.

It was the only way.

So to start, Kai retreated back to the barracks to his own room so he could retrieve a simple traveling cloak, one that had a hood to veil his more recognizable features under the guise of night. He was quiet enough to get past his men who were too entertained by booze and woman to pay him much attention as he slipped into the busy roads of Aomura. The thing is with a sprawling, sleepless city like this, there was always a place to go that would suit the current services you were in need of at the time…for a reasonable price that is.

And his just so happened to be found in the Aomura’s Red Light District, home to prostitutes and illicit profiteers. It was a place he often frequented in every city when seeking the companionship of a lovely lady when under the stupor of alcohol-induced desire. But now he was sober…

Thus it would serve a different purpose tonight.

Pulling his hood further along his head, mind still drowning in a sea of emotion, the general entered into a brightly-lit building that assaulted his olfactory senses in a tide of perfumes. Beautiful women dressed in silken finery entertained men separately in their own areas via beautiful, if not sensual dances. Some merely came to listen sympathetically to their client’s as they drunkenly complained about their lives or just performed for smaller groups.

This was a place for _Geisha_ …or courtesans…or maybe something more if you knew how to look.

“Welcome to Yoshiwara, master traveler! What assistance may I provide for you?”

Kai’s single eye focused on the petite, young woman dressed in a pink, floral kimono, hair done prettily in a bun held in position by ornamental chopsticks. Very easy on the eyes (well _eye_ in his case) but his type wasn’t so readily found as of late, rummaging through his cloak for something. Seconds later he produced a piece of parchment that had the image of a lotus drawn onto it, watching in satisfaction as the woman took the paper and gestured furtively for the man to follow.

They walked past partitioned areas where various guests were being entertained till they came to stand before a door to what appeared to be a dimly lit room. With only a bow and a polite smile, the hostess slid open the door to reveal the previously-stated dimly lit room that’s sole occupant was a small table and some cushions. How quaint.

Sighing inwardly, Kai quietly thanked the girl, kneeled on a cushion, closed his eye, and waited.

After a while, the door on the opposite side of the room opened and a woman stepped in. She was gorgeous (and his type), with that curvaceous, hourglass figure and a well-endowed bosom at her disposal. Her hair was in a flowing ponytail, burgundy like autumn leaves with eyes that were like soft gold, a beautiful hue that offset the fairness of her skin. A royal blue kimono garbed her form, generously parted to expose a seductive view of her cleavage. The woman knew she was beautiful, and flaunted it like a weapon…

Despite the fact she was bereft of her right arm.

One sleeve drifted unoccupied at her side, while the other held a brown pipe to her rose-lips, rings of grey coming from the end. She eyed him with an unreadable expression before she took a seat across from him, a silent, unvoiced tension hanging like a thin thread between them.

All was silent till the general smirked roguishly:

“Back for round two I see, Lady Yuriko.”

The woman rolled her eyes in a tired, but faintly amused fashion. “If only there was something worth going back to.”

Both of them laughed at this, tension virtually dispersed like it never been there in the first place. Yuriko and himself had a long history together, a pleasant one if you discounted a couple of bumps along the road. She was the first to introduce him to the pleasures and addiction of female company when he had been the impressionable age of 16 years and she an experienced 25. She was as beautiful as she was back then, the only difference being the absence of her arm, but she refused to disclose the information regarding this when he asked. He had been willing to take justice for her but she merely shut the conversation down as harshly as any person who didn’t want anyone prying into their business.

But she didn’t object to the passionate, rough intercourse that came afterwards though.

“Now tell me,” she removed the pipe away from her lips, to exhale a wisp of smoke, “what can I do for you? If you were here for normal business, you wouldn’t have needed to use that paper.”

Kai straightened. “Remember those other services you told me about? I think I will need them now.”

Yuriko considered him for a long moment, her eyes securitizing as she searched as much of his face was revealed through the cloak. “Are you going to remove your hood? Something seems different about you.”

The corner of the general’s mouth twitched before he slowly removed his head, displaying the fresh gauze wrapped about his eye and head. At her muted surprise, he smiled ever so wanly. “I’m like you now.”

“I see such a wound hasn’t humbled your tongue at all, boy.”

“Well if only you would tell me what happened—”

“Maybe when you’re older,” she interrupted drily with a blank look, going back to puffing on her pipe with a bit more aggravated emphasis behind each puff. “What happened to you?”

“I was shot in the eye by our foreign invader friends—surely you heard of them?”

“There isn’t much that I don’t hear about it.”

Good. That would save some time explaining.  “Hmm…to put it shortly, I was deployed to survey the situation and handle it appropriately. I was injured during battle, incapacitated, and the village I was stationed at was apparently massacred while I was unconscious. At least that is what they reported but I remain skeptic.”

“I’m assuming that these foreigners have their eyes set on this place next, correct?”

The general’s eyes shimmered with fire. “Oh, I do hope so. There are some questions that I need help answering, which is why I need your services.”

Yuriko placed her pipe on the table, a seriousness about her that Kai appreciated. “Well now you have my attention. What is it that you need?”

“My cousin…the prince, has apparently been killed as well during the attack. But I don’t know if this is true.” Even saying the words felt like it was being ripped from his tongue, like saying them meant it had become reality. The pain he was beginning to associate with this was a constant reminder of this possible reality. “So this is where I require your assistance…your _kunoichi_ if I may. I need someone to infiltrate into the foreigner’s ranks and investigate.”

“We don’t involve ourselves in the battles of men,” the Lady of the establishment said with a sympathetic, matter-of-factness.

The pain shimmering in storm grey hues grew tenfold. “Please! I come to you not as a general seeking vengeance for his men, but as a young man who wants to know if someone he cares about is alive or not. You don’t need to fight my battles…but something like this requires a more…delicate touch.”

The red-haired woman contemplated this in deep silence, like she was ruminating over something that was heavier than the very Earth itself. But just one more glance into the desperation that was like a suffocating aura around her friend was the last persuasive push she needed. Soft golden orbs closed briefly before she gave a heavy sigh. “If I do this for you, what will you do for me in return?”

Something darkened in those grey orbs, pupils narrowing to near slits. “When I kill the Shogun, I promise to give your ladies and yourself in an improvement in the quality of your life.”

“All women,” corrected the woman cautiously.

“All women,” Kai echoed without blinking, satisfied when an amused smirk curled those ruby red lips. She chuckled and took a ruminating poof from her pipe.

“You got yourself a deal, General Hiyato.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long to post! School crept up on me so I was a little slow on posting! But as usual, it was fun to write and hope you guys enjoyed it!


	4. Authors Note

Hey everyone,

I do apologize for my month’s absence and I know that those who read my story and support it deserve some type of explanation. I don’t want to take up a lot of time here so I’ll try to be as brief as possible. To put things simply, I suppose this unexpected delay for chapter four has stemmed from the chapter that I had written to near completion…which was met with an unexpected deletion. The incident involved my dog and ever since then, rewriting this chapter has become the most difficult ever—and this is an exaggeration of course. But that’s how my brain sees fit to describe it as. Every attempt at writing it would lead to me erasing it shortly after in frustration. The flow that I had possessed has been disturbed and I seriously struggled trying to write it even though I already knew what was supposed to occur in the chapter.

Sooooooo…

Somehow I found myself in a weird type of writer’s block, just for this story. And because of it, I began to dislike it little by little to the point where I was split between wanting to continue it or not. So I just decided to go down a middle path—and that is to rewrite it.

I know some of you probably won’t like it but this is the only way to refresh my feelings for this story. I need a new approach and I want to change some elements. Inspiration hit me for this story but I had issue implementing it into what you guys have been reading so far. Just going to start it over…and if that doesn’t work, I’m definitely willing to try writing chapter four once more.

But I don’t want to end off on a bad note—you guys deserve a lot better than that. While you guys wait for this story (if you so chooseJ) I do have another one that I will be posting concurrently of this update. And to be completely honest, this was the story I was going to original post here before I opted for Fallacy. The three characters Erik, Kai, and Reisu (changed to Leiss in the new one) will be the main characters there as well only because I had been experimenting with those characters in different settings. Plus, this was the original story they hailed from. So if you like them, I suppose it’s a good thing? Plus, a majority of this story has been outlined so it’s better equipped for periodic updates!

I’m not going to go into a whole summary here about it. But if you like werewolves and supernatural elements, then please, check it out ^_^.

Heres the story Url: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096818/chapters/29962752

Anyway, I’m sincerely sorry this wasn’t a true update you guys have been patiently waiting for. But I hope to make amends with the other story and the potential rewrite for this one. I’m not going to remove this off this site unless I post the rewrite. If I do decide to go ahead and just continue the chapter, I’ll replace this one with the new one.

Thank you guys though! If anyone has any questions or the like, please feel free to PM me or comment and I will definitely respond!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it! If you did, I will definitely write more!


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